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THE GOLDEN HOUR SERIES 


A new series of booJcs for young people , bound in extra 
cloth , with illuminated designs, illustt ations, 
and title-pages made especially 
for each volume 


A LITTLE DUSKY HERO. By Harriet T. Comstock. 
THE CAXTON CLUB. By Amos R. Wells. 

THE CHILD AND THE TREE. By Bessie Kenyon 
Ulrich. 

DAISIES AND DIGGLESES. By Evelyn Raymond. 

HOW THE TWINS CAPTURED A HESSIAN. By James 
Otis. 

THE I CAN SCHOOL. By Eva A. Madden. 

MASTER FRISKY. By Clarence W. Hawkes. 

MISS DE PEYSTER'S BOY. By Etiieldred B. Barry. 
MOLLY. By Barbara Yechton. 

THE WONDER SHIP. By Sophie Swett. 

WHISPERING TONGUES. By Homer Greene. 


PRICE PER VOLUME, NET, 50 CENTS 


THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. 

NEW YORK 















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THE KING AND QUEEN SAT ON THEIR ROCKY THRONE AND WATCHED 

THEIR SUBJECTS. 





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CONGRESS, 

Two Copies Received 

AUG. 19 1902 

COPYRIGHT ENTRY 

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PLAS^CL XXo No. 

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Copyright, 1902, 

By THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. 











TO MY 

DEAR LITTLE PUPILS 
OF 

ANCHORAGE, KENTUCKY. 











































































































































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CONTENTS 


September . 

CHAPTER I. 

PAGE 

October 

CHAPTER II. 

21 

’ November . . 

CHAPTER III. 

31 

December . 

CHAPTER IV. 

44 

January 

CHAPTER V. 

54 

February . 

CHAPTER VI. 

64 

March. . . . 

CHAPTER VII. 

76 

5 


6 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

PAGE 

April 86 

CHAPTER IX. 

May 98 

CHAPTER X. 


June 


110 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


CHAPTER I. 

SEPTEMBER. 

“Well, Alice,” remarked Mr. Barton, look- 
ing up from the little blue-bound book known as 
the catalogue of the Fairview Academy, “ I’m 
thinking that you had better escort our friend 
Miss Barton to-morrow morning to the path of 
Primer dalliance. Come here, Virginia.” 

Virginia came close to his knee. She was 
six, and round-cheeked and chubby, with merry 
little dark eyes, and a nose which her papa said 
was trying to catch a glimpse of her eyebrows. 
She smiled up at her father and waited. 

“ Miss Barton,” — her papa, who was the kind 
of man who joked about everything, treated 
Virginia with the same respect he did her mam- 
ma’s grown-up young lady friends. 

“ — Miss Barton, how would you like to begin 
your education, and, incidentally, to break in- 
numerable slates and lose dozens of pencils, at 
a cost of fifty dollars per annum? In short, 

7 


8 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


Miss Barton, how would you like to go to 
school?” 

“ I would like it very much,” said Virginia, 
smiling in her slow baby way. 

At first she thought only of the pleasure of 
a new experience. But after a moment’s reflec- 
tion the difficulties began to declare themselves. 

“ Papa — ” 

“ Yes, Miss Barton.” 

“Won’t fifty dollars be very heavy? Who 
will carry it ? ” 

At first her papa laughed. Then he looked 
very solemn. 

“ The burden, Miss Barton, will fall upon the 
shoulders of your already heavily laden parent.” 

Virginia looked very troubled. She loved 
her papa very much. She remembered that her 
Aunt Lizzie had said that with only a little 
more to carry, her brother certainly would 
break down. 

She remembered how heavy her bank had 
been when it had had fifty coppers in it. How 
much weightier fifty dollars would be she could 
only imagine. 

“ Will it break you down, papa?” she asked. 

“ It might, you know,” said her papa, look- 
ing suddenly very weary. 

“ Then I won’t go,” said Virginia bravely. 

“ Oh, Edward ! ” cried Mrs. Barton, looking 
up from her book, “ don’t tease the child that 
way. Come here, Virginia.” < 

Then she told the little girl how her papa 


SEPTEMBER. 


9 


could write his name on a piece of paper from 
a little book, and make it mean exactly the 
same as fifty dollars. 

“ Then I can go ! ” said Virginia, all smiles ; 
and slipping down from her mother’s lap she 
went out to her playroom, and waked up all her 
children whose eyes were closed and who lay in 
a row on her bed. When they were well awake, 
she told them that their mamma must leave 
them for the purpose of improving her mind. 

“ You see, Lucretia Borgia,” she said, taking 
up her oldest daughter, — a gentle-faced, blond- 
haired lady, who had been named by her grand- 
father, — “ you can take your naps in the 
morning while your mamma is away. In the 
afternoon we will have school, and I can teach 
you your letters. It is a dreadful thing, Lucre- 
tia, to be ignorant. My papa says so.” 

On the following morning Mrs. Barton ar- 
rayed Virginia in a pretty pink gingham dress 
and a ruffled white apron. She curled her hair 
close to her head in loose neat curls. She 
made them by brushing the hair over her finger, 
and this gave them an old-fashioned look. 

Then she gave Virginia a school-bag, in which 
were a slate, a book, and a pencil-box. 

Her papa presented her with a small basket. 
In it were two biscuits with a filling of meat 
and nuts. There also was a slice of chocolate 
cake and a shining rpd apple. 

“ You are to eat them at recess,” her mamma 
explained. 


10 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


Virginia was delighted. “ I wish it was re- 
cess now,” she said. 

Then she went into the playroom, and kissed 
her children good-bye. 

“ Be good, now,” she said, “ and when I 
come home I will teach all of you to read.” 

At a few minutes after eight Virginia found 
herself in a great room full of boys and girls. 
“ ’Most a thousand,” she said to herself, but 
really there were not more than fifteen. 

In front of the desks stood a pretty young 
lady, with light fluffy hair and a bright smile. 
She wore a white shirt-waist and a white duck 
skirt. 

Virginia felt that it would be perfectly im- 
possible not to love this lady. She looked as 
if she could never be cross with children. 

Just above the lady’s head, hanging on the 
wall, were two pictures, — one of a nice-looking 
old gentleman, with a fine ruffled shirt ; the 
other of an equally handsome old lady, in a 
soft white dress, over which was folded a soft 
full kerchief. 

Virginia wondered if they were the grandpa 
and grandma of the pretty lady. At last she 
mustered up her courage and inquired of a 
little boy standing near by. 

He gave what Virginia thought was a very 
rude laugh. “ Them’s George Washington and 
Mis’ Washington,” he said. “They’re the 
father and mother of Kentucky. They ain’t 
nobody’s gran’ma and gran ’pa.” 


SEPTEMBER. 


11 


Virginia felt very ignorant. Here was prob- 
lem number one. She wondered which of the 
little girls was Kentucky. She thought that 
perhaps it might be the little one with the 
turned-up nose and short hair. She was cer- 
tain that such a nice-looking little girl would 
be sure to be worthy of such very desirable 
grandparents. 

“ Now, children.” 

The pretty lady tapped a bell. 

“ It is time to go.” 

“ Go where ? ” wondered Virginia. Why, 
hadn’t she just come, and now why was she 
to go somewhere else ? 

However, there was nothing to do but to file 
into line and follow the rest. At the door the 
little girl with the short hair hugged her hard 
and gave her a kiss. 

“ You cute thing ! ” she said. 

Virginia slipped a soft hand into the equally 
soft hand of this affectionate and complimen- 
tary little girl. She felt at once that this was 
to be her best friend. Her papa had told her 
that little girls always had best friends at school. 

“ Is your name Kentucky ? ” she asked with 
sudden courage. Her new friend laughed, but 
not rudely as the boy had done. 

“ It’s Billy,” she said. “ It’s really Evelyn, 
but they call me Billy because I’m a tomboy. 
Kentucky’s the State.” 

Here was another puzzle. What was a 
State ? 


12 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


Virginia determined that when she reached 
home she would ask her papa. Perhaps her 
mamma knew Kentucky. She felt that she 
would like very much indeed to know those old 
people. They had such nice rosy cheeks and 
such very white hair. 

While all these thoughts had been going 
through Virginia’s small brain the line had 
been moving along the hall. Now it stopped 
before a great door. The leader with puffing 
difficulty pushed it open, and Virginia found 
herself in an immense room filled with boys 
and girls much older than those in the charge 
of the pretty lady in the white waist. Billy led 
her to a seat on a bench so high that when at 
last she was upon it her fat little legs dangled 
until they felt hot and heavy. 

On the other side of her sat the little boy 
who had told her about the father and mother 
of Kentucky. Across one end of the room ran 
a platform. Behind a desk at one end of it sat 
an old lady whose lips were very thin and close 
pressed together. 

“ She’s ’most a hundred,” whispered Billy. 

Near the old lady sat a gentleman with a 
book in his hand. 

At the organ at the far end of the platform 
was a young lady in a pink waist and black skirt. 

The old lady tapped a bell. 

At once the room was so still that Virginia 
felt as if all the hearts on earth had suddenly 
stopped beating. 


SEPTEMBER. 


13 


Billy at that moment had the misfortune to 
drop her pocket-handkerchief. 

She stooped to pick it up, and losing her 
balance fell to the floor with a loud, noisy bump. 
The old lady turned and looked at her very, 
very hard while she got up from the floor and 
climbed back to the bench. She continued to 
look until Billy, red to the roots of her short 
light hair, settled herself into motionless si- 
lence. When it was still again the old lady 
moved her chair toward the desk about four 
inches. She then opened a large book, the 
very largest Virginia had ever seen. 

“Master Henry Armstrong.” 

Virginia looked all round to see what “ Mas- 
ter Henry Armstrong ” was going to do. She 
wondered if he were the gentleman with the 
book. To her surprise, a very, very little boy, 
in a pretty sailor suit, answered, “ Present,” in 
a small, scared voice. 

Virginia had not the slightest idea what 
“ Present ” meant ; but she answered it also 
when the stem old lady called, “ Miss Virginia 
Lee Barton,” and Billy gave her a punch on 
one side, and the boy a poke on the other. 

When every one had given voice to this mys- 
terious word, the old lady closed the book, and 
re-moved her chair the same four inches. 

Then came the gentleman’s turn. 

“ We will sing hymn No. 30,” he said. 

This gave the pink lady a chance. She 
moved to the organ and began a tune. It 


14 


THE 1 CAN SCHOOL. 


sounded like “ Tell Aunt Rhody; ” so Virginia 
sang, “ The old gray goose is dead.” She found, 
after a time, that she and the school were sing- 
ing different words, so she stopped singing and 
listened. 

The school’s words were all about founts and 
tunes and something called an Ebenezer. 

“What was that?” wondered Virginia. It 
puzzled her so, that she forgot everything until 
she saw some of the children kneeling, some 
bowing their heads. Virginia didn’t know what 
to do ; for Billy was standing up, and the little 
boy was down on his knees. While she was 
trying to decide upon her attitude in the mat- 
ter, the man with the book began to pray. 
Virginia got down on her knees as quickly as 
she could, for her mamma had told her that it 
was very, very wicked not to kneel when you 
say your prayers. She wondered if Billy was 
wicked because she stood. Later on she asked 
her. 

“ I’m Presbyterian,” said Billy ; “ we don’t 
kneel.” 

Here was a fresh word — “ Presbyterian,” 
“Ebenezer,” “Kentucky.” Virginia felt that 
she must ask for a great deal of her papa’s time 
that evening. 

“Is Presbyterian naughty?” she asked Billy. 

“No, it ain’t 1” said Billy, firing up. “It’s 
church.” 

When Virginia found herself outside the big 
room, she wondered if she would have to go 


SEPTEMBER. 


15 


there again. She hoped not; for she was so 
tired in the calves of her legs that she did not 
know how to walk straight; and she was so 
terribly afraid of that old lady, that she felt she 
would surely die if ever those eyes looked at 
her as they had looked at poor Billy. To her 
joy, the young lady in the white waist patted 
her on the cheek. 

“You sweet little thing,” she said, “I guess 
you’re as tired as I am. Isn’t it awful to have 
to be so still? And now, children, you may 
all walk around and look out the windows, 
and then we’ll sing a lively song, and I’ll tell 
you some stories, and we’ll forget all about the 
chapel.” 

The rest of the day was very fine. At recess 
Virginia opened her basket. The boy who had 
told her about Kentucky looked so hard at its 
contents, that Virginia gave him one of her bis- 
cuits. She gave Billy half the cake, and a bite 
from the apple. 

“Verginyah she’s nice,” said the boy to 
Henry, whom everyone called Harry. “ She 
gimme a biscuit. She ain’t mean like most 
girls.” 

Virginia at this felt that she had behaved in 
the most praiseworthy fashion. She determined 
on the morrow to give the boy a piece of cake, 
as well as a biscuit. She would ask her 
mamma to put in enough for two thereafter. 

Before Virginia arrived home that day, she 
had discovered that the pretty lady’s name was 


16 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


Miss Ellison, that everybody called the boy 
Cartel*, and that Billy was the nicest little girl 
she had ever known, and would be willing at 
any time to come over and play mother, and 
make the acquaintance of Lucre tia Borgia and 
the rest of her children. 

The next day, Miss Ellison gave Virginia and 
the other children paper and boxes of paints. 

“Now, children,” she said, smiling very 
brightly, and looking right into their eyes, 
“every one of you must do the very, very 
best in the world. Remember, this is the ‘I 
Can • School ’ ; and everyone who says ‘ I can’t ’ 
must tell us good-bye, and go in to the room 
with Miss Mason.” 

Virginia concluded from the faces of the 
children that Miss Mason must be the old lady 
who had looked so hard at Billy ; and so she 
decided with the utmost quickness never even 
to whisper “ I can’t,” even when she couldn’t. 

Taking her brush in hand she dabbed it in 
the water, and rubbed it all over the cake of 
green paint and began to work very hard. 

“Gee! Look at Verginyah Barton’s daub!” 
said the boy who had told her about Kentucky. 

“Why, it isn’t a daub at all,” said Miss 
Ellison hastily. “ It’s a — a ” — “ Tree,” said 
Virginia, smiling up into her face. 

“ Yes, a tree, a great, lovely, green, branchy 
tree,” said Miss Ellison; and she patted Vir- 
ginia on the head. 

Virginia had felt very much discouraged ; 


SEPTEMBER. 


IT 


but after the pretty lady knew her tree so 
easily she felt as if in time there might even 
be a chance of her becoming an artist like her 
Uncle John, who had painted portraits of all 
the family. 

One day Miss Ellison called Virginia to 
her knee. In her hand was a book. 

“Now, Virginia,” she said, “we will learn 
to read.” 

At this Virginia smiled very happily. She 
was glad that now she was going to learn to 
read. She felt that it was necessary to save 
her from mortification as a mother, for Lucretia 
Borgia had begun to wonder why her educa- 
tion was so long in beginning. 

Miss Ellison pointed to a picture. 

“ What is this, Virginia? ” she asked cheer- 

fully- 

“It’s a kitten-puss,” said Virginia, with equal 
cheerfulness. 

Miss Ellison looked less cheerful. 

Virginia felt that she had not said what was 
expected of her. But how could she, when she 
had no idea of what was wanted ? 

Miss Ellison pointed to a second picture. 

“ And what is this ? ” 

“ A bow-wow.” 

Miss Ellison’s cheerfulness entirely faded. 

Again Virginia felt that she had not made 
the proper reply. 

“ And this? ” 

“ A chicky,” said Virginia. 


18 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


Miss Ellison returned to picture No. 1. 
“ This, Virginia,” she said with firmness, “ is a 
cat. Now see these ? they are letters. C-A-T ; 
that means cat also. Now say C-A-T, cat.” 

“ C-A-T, cat,” said the smiling Virginia. 

“Now what is this ? ” inquired Miss Ellison, 
pointing to the picture. 

“ A kitty-puss,” said Virginia. 

“ And this? ” pointing to the word. 

Virginia was dumb. 

“ C-A-T, cat,” said Miss Ellison. 

“ C-A-T, cat,” said Virginia. 

“Now this?” pointing to the picture. 

“ Kitten-puss,” said Virginia all smiles. 

Miss Ellison paused for breath. 

“ She’s, stoopid,” said Carter. But Harry 
acted nicer. He had not found the path of 
learning entirely roses himself ; so looking very 
cute in his sailor suit, he tip-toed up to her 
side. 

“ Virginia,” he said, “ can’t you say C-A-T, 
cat ? ” he asked, touching the letters with a 
fat little forefinger, and looking up into her 
face with the gravity of a little old man. 

But no ; Virginia could not see that “ C-A-T, 
cat ” had anything to do with that picture of a 
lovely black and white kitten-puss. 

Everybody tried to help Miss Ellison teach 
Virginia to read. Even the man at the station, 
learning from Carter of her difficulty, tried to 
teach her the letters from the signs on the 
freight cars which stood on the track ; but V ir- 


SEPTEMBER. 


19 


ginia, who had no idea what anybody wanted of 
her, kept smiling and saying, “ C-A-T, kitten- 
puss, H-E-N, chicky.” 

Miss Ellison went to the principal. 

“ Let her alone,” he said, “ she’s taking things 
in. She will surprise you some day when you 
least expect it.” 

Mrs. Barton, however, took it seriously. 

“Edward,” she asked anxiously of her hus- 
band, “ do you — can she — do you think Vir- 
ginia’s a dunce ? ” 

Mr. Barton laughed. 

“ With two such brilliant parents ? ” he in- 
quired. “ Impossible, Alice, impossible ! ” 

And that was all she could get him to say. 

At last, when every one was in despair, the 
rector of Virginia’s mamma’s church heard of 
the trouble. He took his meals at the seminary 
with the boarding pupils, and so knew all about 
the school. 

One day at recess time he called Virginia to 
the front porch. In his hand was a piece of the 
loveliest looking pie Virginia had ever seen. 

“ Virginia,” said the rector, “ would you like 
a piece of P-I-E, pie ? ” 

“ Yes, sir,” said Virginia with amazing prompt- 
ness. 

“ P-I-E, pie,” said the rector. 

“ P-I-E, pie,” said Virginia. 

Then he showed her the letters in a book. 

When she had said it ten times he gave her 
the pie ; and she ate it all up except for a bite 


20 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


which she gave Carter, who teased her out 
of it. 

The next morning Virginia, looking very im- 
portant, brought her Primer to Miss Ellison. 

“ P-I-E, pie! C-A-T, cat! D-O-G, dog! 
H-E-N, hen ! ” said Virginia, shooting out word 
after word, like a little pop-gun going off. 

Then Miss Ellison hugged and kissed her; 
and Harry said, “That’s fine, Virginia;” and 
her mother, in her relief that her daughter was 
not a dunce, gave her a doll which her papa 
named Catherine de’ Medici. 

Only Mr. Barton looked sad. 

“ Miss Barton,” he said, “ you have now be- 
come a terrible responsibility. You are no 
longer merely a little girl. You have become 
a lady of letters and accomplishments.” 


OCTOBER. 


21 


CHAPTER II. 

OCTOBER. 

In a few weeks Virginia could read such 
important sentences as “ Mamma, see baby,” 
“ Baby, see mamma; ” and she liked school very 
much. Still, however, there were one or two 
things which troubled her. One was Lisa. 
She could not understand why no one played 
with Lisa and her brothers. 

“ They’re Swiss,” said Billy as if that settled 
matters. Virginia didn’t know what Swiss 
meant, so she looked at Lisa and John and 
Carl very hard to try and find out; but all she 
saw was a quiet, poorly dressed little girl and 
two boys, whose hands were rough and red like 
those of Jim, the hired man at Virginia’s home. 

“ We don’t go with them,” said Elsie Harri- 
son, whose clothes were as fine as Lisa’s were 
poor, and whose father owned Beechmont, a 
lovely place with a lake and conservatory. 

Virginia felt very sorry for Lisa. She 
thought that it must be very stupid to be 
obliged always to go with two boys and never 
to be asked to play “ mother ” with the girls at 
their homes, or to be invited to the shows in 


22 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


Elsie’s third-story room, or to join in the pony 
rides in the afternoon. But as she did not 
know how to right matters, and as she was but 
six years old, she did what the other children 
did, — left Lisa and her brothers alone. It hap- 
pened one morning that Miss Ellison gave Lisa 
the flag to hold. 

Each morning the “ I Can School ” saluted the 
flag. 

Lisa, proud of the honor, grasped the staff 
very fast in her hand, and stood erect before the 
class. 

Tap went the bell. 

Up rose the class. 

“ I give my hand, my head, my heart, to my 
country.” 

At that moment something shot through the 
air, struck the flag-staff, and landed white and 
round on the blackboard behind the astonished 
Miss Ellison. 

It was Virginia’s first acquaintance with 
that interesting missile of school warfare known 
as a paper wad. 

It was also her first acquaintance with an 
indignant teacher. 

“Children,” — Miss Ellison’s face was flushed, 
and her voice trembling with anger, — “ who 
did that? This, you know, is a school where 
everybody acts square. If you do a thing, own 
up. Who threw that wad ? Did you, Harry ? 
You, Carter? You, Sal — ” 

Knock ! Knock ! 


OCTOBER . 


23 


There was some one at the door. Billy ran 
and opened it, and in came a lady dressed in 
black. She held by the hand a little girl. 
Virginia thought her the prettiest little girl she 
had ever seen. Her eyes were very blue, her 
cheeks very red, and her curls a beautiful 
golden. She wore a white dress and black sash. 

“ Her papa’s dead,” whispered Billy, who 
had slipped into the desk beside Virginia. 
“ Her papa’s dead, and she’s come to live at 
Mrs. Falconer’s. She’s her grandma.” Vir- 
ginia’s bright little eyes filled with tears. It 
must be a dreadful thing to lose one’s papa. 

“ Let’s put our children in black,” whispered 
Billy ; and at such a cheerful suggestion Vir- 
ginia began to smile at the prospect of a coming 
diversion. In the excitement of the arrival of 
a new pupil nothing more was said about the 
paper wad. 

Next morning, however, lessons should have 
begun with the salute of the flag. 

“Ain’t we goin’ to s’lute the flag?” asked 
Carter, struggling to bring about anything 
which should delay the moment of copy-books. 
Miss Ellison looked so grave that Virginia 
began to wonder who had been naughty. 

“We will talk about that after recess,” she 
said. 

When the school came in from the play- 
ground, there was a sentence printed upon the 
blackboard. 

Virginia looked very hard at its letters ; but 


24 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


as there was nothing about pie, cat, mamma, or 
baby, her face took on a pained smile of puz- 
zled wonder. 

Carter, with feet wide apart, hands behind 
his back, read it aloud : 

“ ’Tis the schoolhouse stands by the flag.” 

Virginia smiled again ; but she had no idea 
of what it meant. A schoolhouse standing by 
a flag? 

“ I’ll tell you what it means,” said Miss 
Ellison. “First, however, come out front.” 

Then she seated the “ I Can School ” on the 
benches around her chair, first a boy, then a 
girl. 

“The boys,” she said, “are layers in a nice 
big cake. The girls are the chocolate filling.” 

When Virginia told her papa about this 
arrangement, he informed her that when she 
grew up and taught school, she would find out 
why Miss Ellison thought it wise to put a little 
girl between two boys. 

When the children were all seated, Miss 
Ellison told them a story. It began with our 
country when it was a great forest, full of 
Indians slaying deer, and scalping with toma- 
hawks. 

Then it told about how people came over the 
sea from England, and built houses, and made 
towns and cities, and of how it all belonged to 
England, who treated the people very badly, 
and made them pay money for things they did 
not get. 


OCTOBER. 


25 


Then came a war, and Washington. 

Virginia smiled when she heard this name. 
Her papa had told her all about the cherry-tree, 
and the war, and the neat copy-books. 

Carter, on the contrary, did not look pleased. 
He hated copy-books, and knew that he could 
never have liked any boy who did like them. 

Miss Ellison told of how America whipped 
England. 

“ Like we did Spain,” said Carter, who knew 
every event of the late war. 

Miss Ellison smiled. “ Yes, Carter,” she said. 

Then she proceeded to tell the children of 
how when America was free, and a country all 
by itself, it needed a flag. 

She went to the drawer of her desk, opened it, 
and brought out a little silk flag. 

“ What a funny flag, Miss Ellison ! ” said 
Elsie. “ It’s all sewed by hand. See every 
stripe ! ” 

Miss Ellison let the children all hold the 
flag in their own hands. “ Now I will tell you 
about it,” she said. 

“One day General Washington made up his 
mind that some one must make the flag. Near 
him in church sat a very handsome little lady 
named Betsy Ross. Her husband had died, her 
family had quarreled with her, so she was 
obliged to earn her living by sewing. She 
lived in a queer little house on Arch Street in 
Philadelphia, and there Washington went to 
call on her. 


26 


THE I CAN SCHOOL . 


“ I have been in the very room, children, my- 
self. It has queer tiles about the fireplace and 
a low ceiling and queer windows. The grand- 
daughter of Mrs. Ross made this very flag I 
have shown you. She is a pretty lady too, and 
they tell you she looks like Mrs. Ross. She 
sits in Independence Hall, and will sell you these 
little flags, and tell you all about how W ashing- 
ton told her grandmother that he had heard of 
her neat sewing, and wanted her to make her 
country’s flag. 

“ He showed her a picture of what he wanted, 
— a flag of red, white, and blue, thirteen stars, 
and thirteen stripes. 

“ A star for every State, a State for every 
star.” 

Miss Ellison explained how, as the Union 
grew bigger and bigger, a star was added for 
each new State ; and she begged each child to 
try to honor his or her country by loving and 
honoring its flag. She talked so earnestly that 
Virginia looked down in her lap. She felt so 
ashamed of the boy who had thrown the wad. 

Then Miss Ellison told them of Philadelphia 
and Independence Hall where our country de- 
clared itself free, and of Mrs. Betsy Ross’s house, 
where the flag is always unfurled, and of how 
brave men had followed that flag to battle, and 
given up their lives that the Stars and Stripes 
might still wave. 

She was so much in earnest that she forgot 
the little girl in the white dress and black sash. 


OCTOBER. 


27 


Suddenly she felt the touch of a soft little 
hand, and Virginia heard the new pupil telling 
of how her papa had died for the flag. 

“ In the Philippines, Miss Ellison. And I 
wouldn’t stand anybody’s not treating it right. 
Papa told me about Mrs. Betsy Ross, but what 
made me love it was that he died for it.” 

The room was very still. 

Then Harry, with his little old man air, slipped 
up and touched the little girl’s hand. 

Miss' Ellison put her arm around her, and 
drew her close. 

“ Frances,” she said, “ would you throw a 
wad at our flag ? ” 

The child’s eyes flashed, and Virginia thought 
she had never seen such red cheeks. They 
were redder than Lucre tia Borgia’s. 

“ No, I wouldn’t ! ” the little girl said indig- 
nantly. “ If any one did it I’d — I’d — ” 

“ Children,” said Miss Ellison, “ you see how 
Frances feels. Her papa died for this very flag 
— the one somebody was willing to throw wads 
at. Frances, you are a soldier’s little girl ; you 
love the flag ; will you help me to teach the 4 1 
Can School ’ to love it ? ” 

“Yes, Miss Ellison,” said the little girl; and 
Miss Ellison looked so pleased that Virginia 
wished she was a soldier’s daughter, only not to 
have her papa die. She was not patriot enough 
yet for that. 

That afternoon Miss Ellison received a note. 
She read it to the school. 


28 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


“ I’m sorry that I threw the wad. I won’t 
do it again.” 

There was a name signed, but Miss Ellison 
never told whose it was. 

The next morning Miss Ellison taught the “ I 
Can School ” a piece. Frances brought it. Her 
mamma, she told Miss Ellison, had cut it from 
a paper. 

This is the piece : 

THE FLAG GOES BY.* 

Hats off! 

Along the street there comes 
A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums, 

A flash of color beneath the sky. 

Hats off ! 

The flag is passing by. 

Blue and crimson and white it shines 
Over the steel-tipped ordered lines. 

Hats off! 

The colors before us fly, 

But more than the flag is passing by. 

Hats off! 

Along the street there comes 
A blare of bugles, a ruffle of drums, 

And loyal hearts are beating high. 

Hats off! 

The flag is passing by. 

Virginia tried hard to learn it. At last she 
did. 

* Copied from Primary Education. By H. II. Bennett. 


OCTOBER. 


29 


One afternoon she said it to her mother, and 
in the evening to her father. 

They were much pleased. 

“ Miss Barton,” said her papa, “ you are a 
child to gladden the heart of even the most 
exacting parent.” 

A few days later Virginia brought home a 
little flag painted by herself. 

Her father studied it with becoming atten- 
tion. 

“ Miss Barton,” he said, “ while there is yet 
a slight indecision in your lines, I am persuaded 
that you will yet hang a picture in the Salon.” 

“ And we’re going to drill,” said Virginia 
grandly. “ That’s what Miss Ellison told us 
to-day. And Frances is Captain cause her papa 
was a real captain. He died, papa, for the flag, 
and they wrapped him up in it ; and she wears 
a black sash, and all my children are in black 
too. And, papa, Jamie and I are to march in 
front. We are the smallest, and it’s the Fair- 
view Home Guard. Carter named it.” 

“Wonderful, Miss Barton, wonderful ! And 
will you volunteer in case of the President need- 
ing more troops for the Philippines ? ” 

“ Oh, Edward, don’t ! ” cried Mrs. Barton, 
who was putting Virginia’s flag away in a 
precious box where she kept her first curls, and 
her baby cap and shoes, and the silver spoons 
Virginia’s grandmother had given her on birth- 
days and at Christmas. “Don’t tease the 
child. That is very nice, Virginia, and some 


30 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


day mamma will come to school and see you 
practice.” 

“At Christmas,” said Virginia. “We’re 
going to have an exprobition, and wear red, 
white, and blue, and carry flags.” 

“ Delightful,” said Mr. Barton ; “ I’ll certainly 
be there.” 

But Mrs. Barton looked a little sad. She, 
too, would be there ; but first she would have 
to make the red, white, and blue for Virginia to 
march in. 


NOVEMBER . 


31 


CHAPTER III. 

NOVEMBER. 

A great many things happened in November. 

For one thing, the “I Can School” wrote 
compositions. For another, all the children 
spent an afternoon with Frances. 

One day Miss Ellison told the children that 
they must begin to think about Thanksgiving. 

“ I am begun,” said Carter. “ W e’re going 
to have turkey.” 

But it was not of turkeys that Miss Ellison 
wanted the “ I Can School ” to think. It was 
of some people whom she called Pilgrims. Vir- 
ginia listened very hard, because, when she 
reached home, she would have to teach Lucretia 
and Catherine. 

Miss Ellison told of the hard times these 
people had in trying to go to the church they 
believed to be right, and of how at last they 
sailed across the ocean in a ship called the May- 
flower, and came to America. 

Virginia felt very sorry for the Pilgrims when 
Miss Ellison told of their sufferings from cold 
and hunger, and from the savage ways of the 
Indians, and smiled when she heard of how at 


32 


THE 1 CAN SCHOOL. 


last things grew better, and they made a feast, 
and gave thanks to God for His goodness in 
giving them liberty and a fine harvest. 

The day of the feast they called Thanksgiving. 

When Miss Ellison ended her talk, she had 
Jessie come out front and recite “ The Breaking 
Waves Dashed High.” 

Virginia thought it a lovely piece, and made 
up her mind to learn it as soon as Miss Ellison 
would teach it to her. 

“ Now,” said the teacher of the u I Can School,” 
when Jessie had taken her seat, “we will write 
compositions.” 

Virginia did not know what compositions 
were ; but she concluded that they could not 
be very pleasant things, for Carter began to 
grumble, and even Billy the cheerful looked 
depressed. 

Miss Ellison laid a piece of paper on each 
desk, then a pencil, then a little picture. Some 
of the pictures were of turkeys, others of pump- 
kins, others of sad-looking people in long cloaks 
and queer hats. 

“ Them’s Pilgrims,” said Carter, surveying 
his, a grim Puritan of sour countenance, with 
scornful disfavor. “ Miss Ellison, please’m don’t 
make me take the old thing. I’d ruther have a 
turkey. This Pilgrim’s as cross as two sticks.” 

Miss Ellison laughed, and exchanged the Puri- 
tan for a gobbler, to Carter’s instant relief. 

“Now,” she said, “every one of you may 
paste your picture on your paper. It will be 


NOVEMBER. 


33 


what we call an illustration. Then we will 
write ‘ Thanksgiving ’ on the very top line, then 
your name and the date on the second. I will 
write it on the board for the big ones, and print 
it for the little ones.” 

Everybody had to use ink, and poor Harry 
got black marks all over his chubby fingers. 

“Never mind,” said Miss Ellison, “it will 
wash off, and I don’t like pencils.” 

It took two days for the “ I Can School ” to 
tell why it was thankful. First, it had all to be 
told on a rough piece of paper, and then copied 
on the paper with the picture. 

Miss Ellison had to print Virginia’s composi- 
tion. Then Virginia copied it. 

Here it is : 

THANKSGIVING. 

VIRGINIA BARTON, NOV. 27 
I AM THANKFUL 
FOR MY PAPA 
AND MY MAMMA. 

Here is Carter’s ; 

J| Cl/YVb tfbCOTbft^uX f/OA/ t$T/C CUA/Vb O/VbcL 
, bai/Vb. 

J a/wb t^xiyvbWbiX to'b ttb o tuAibe>a^. 

a/YVb tA/OyYbWbbt tlbCbt O/VYb co 
J! a/Wb t$b(XTbfc/£blX tfbCbfc cJ CbTVb Tbot Cb 

When all the compositions were finished, Miss 
Ellison pinned them on the walls and window 



34 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


frames. Then the principal came in and looked 
at them, and patted Virginia on the head, and 
told her that she would soon be a famous 
writer. 

On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving 
Day, Miss Ellison told the “ I Can School ” to 
remain at home until Monday. 

“ On your way from school to-day,” said 
Miss Ellison with a smile, “ I want every one 
of you to stop at the Post Office, and ask Miss 
Bayne if you have a letter.” 

Miss Bayne was the post-mistress. Vir- 
ginia and Billy always went home together. 

Billy had a lovely little sorrel pony named 
Dot. Dot was not really hers, but was lent 
her by Mr. Davis who owned a large stock-farm 
near Fairview. Billy knew that one day she 
must give Dot back, but while Dot was hers 
she loved her with all the warmth of a loyal 
animal-loving little heart. She told Virginia that 
she knew that Dot understood every word that 
was said to her ; and Virginia, who believed every 
word that was said to her , regarded Dot as a 
pony of very superior mental endowments. 

On this particular Wednesday the two little 
girls told Miss Ellison good-bye, and both 
mounted Dot. 

When they reached the Post Office, Billy 
slipped down, and knocked on the door of the 
little building used as an office by Miss Bayne. 

“ Come in,” called the post-mistress, surprised 
that any one should have to be invited into the 


NOVEMBER. 


35 


Post Office. She did not know that Billy did 
not think it safe to leave Virginia alone with 
Dot. 

“ Come in,” called Miss Bayne again. 

Billy opened the door, meaning to ask Miss 
Bayne to please hand her the mail, when, sud- 
denly, in answer to this second invitation, Dot 
with Virginia on her back, walked right through 
the door, and before Billy could stop her, pro- 
ceeded up to the window. 

“No letters for you, ma’am,” said Miss Bayne 
with a laugh. 

“ Is there a letter for me, Miss Alice ? ” asked 
Virginia, plucking up courage. 

“And one for me?” cried Billy, who had 
gotten hold of Dot’s bridle ready to lead her 
out. 

Miss Bayne handed a letter to each little 
girl. They were small letters in envelopes 
about two inches square. 

They did not open them until they reached 
home, because neither of them could read 
writing. 

Mrs. Barton opened Virginia’s very neatly 
with a little mother-of-pearl letter-opener. 

This is what she read : — 

Dear Virginia, — Grandma would like the “ I 
Can School ” to spend Friday afternoon at Clover Nook. 
Can you come at 3 o’clock? I hope you can, so does 
mamma. 

Your little friend, 

Frances McDowell. 


36 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


When Virginia showed this letter to her 
father he looked very solemn. 

“ Misfortunes,” he said, “ follow fast upon 
each other’s heels. Not content, Miss Barton, 
with being a lady of letters, you now become a 
lady of fashion.” 

Friday at last came, and Virginia found her- 
self in the great parlors at Clover Nook. The 
children all looked so fine and so uncomfortable 
in their best clothes that it was very difficult 
to be friendly. Virginia, forgetting her own 
splendor in a white lace-and-silk party gown, 
stared in speechless wonder at Carter looking 
rebelliously dangerous in a ruffled shirt and 
suit of velvet. 

“Tain’t fine,” he said in response to Miss 
Ellison’s complimentary approval. “ It’s tight.” 

Mrs. Falconer, Frances’s grandmother, was a 
very grand-looking old lady with such lovely 
white hair that Virginia immediately thought 
of Mrs. Washington. 

She patted the children on their heads, and 
shook hands with Miss Ellison. 

Virginia, standing by, heard her tell Miss 
Ellison of how she didn’t think it good for 
Frances to be in the country without a thing to 
take her mind off her trouble. 

“ Children are good for anyone,” she added, 
“ so I’ve taken things into my own hands, and 
given this little party.” 

Presently the children forgot their good 
clothes, and the little boys were persuaded 


NOVEMBER. 


37 


to come out from the corner in which they 
had gathered in a group. 

“ Come with me, children,” said Mrs. Fal- 
coner ; and she led the way across the hall into 
two great rooms. “We got all these things in 
the Philippines,” cried Frances ; and she led the 
children to the tables on which were great 
albums of pictures. On the walls were daggers, 
and bows and arrows, and baskets and swords, 
and all sorts of queer embroideries. Virginia 
had never seen such a room. Then there were 
swords and gems, flags and standards. 

She stood close to Mrs. McDowell, so she 
could hear all about the photographs. She 
wished Catherine and Lucretia had been in- 
vited. Of course she could tell them the 
stories, but it was too bad that they could 
not see the pictures. One was the photograph 
of a man in the queerest clothes dancing about 
on the hard-wood floor of a splendid big 
room. 

“ This is a man I called Two Step,” said 
Mrs. McDowell. “ He was a Philippino who 
polished the floor in the palace where our gen- 
eral lived. He used to tie gunny sacks on his 
feet, and dance what we call a Two Step until 
the wood shone like a mirror.” 

By and by she showed the children a queer 
Indian blanket on which were woven in squares 
long-legged birds running races with what were 
meant to be steam-engines. 

“ An Indian chief, one out west, gave it to 


38 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


me,” explained Mrs. McDowell ; “ he said that 
this long-legged bird is the Indian’s idea of 
swiftness, the train is the white man’s idea, and 
the race shows how the white man is beating 
the Indian.” 

When Virginia was tired of the pictures, 
Frances led her to a certain corner where she 
kept her own treasures. On the wall was the 
picture of a very sad-looking little boy with 
great soft eyes. 

“It’s the little King of Spain,” explained 
Frances. “ Papa found it in a palace in Cuba. 
He gave it to me because I wanted it.” 

Virginia did not know who the little King of 
Spain was, but it made her feel bad to see the 
sad face. 

“ He was whipped,” said Carter, coming up. 
“We whipped him.” 

Virginia felt sorrier than ever. Once she, 
too, had had a whipping. She often gave them 
to Lucre tia. No wonder the little king looked 
sad. When Mrs. McDowell left the room Mrs. 
Falconer showed the children a flag. 

“ It was in fourteen battles,” she said. “ They 
laid it across Captain McDowell when they 
brought him home.” 

“No wonder Frances loves the flag,” said 
Miss Ellison, and she looked at the children. 
All this was very interesting, but Virginia began 
to wish for the party. 

“ I hope it’ll be ice-cream,” said Carter, “ and 
they’ll ask me to have it twice.” 


NOVEMBER. 


39 


Before they had the party, however, Mrs. 
McDowell told the story of Monk, and showed 
his picture to the children. 

Here is the story : 

One day Frances and her mother went with 
some officers for a sail on the lake. They 
landed at a quiet town, and walked about the 
strange streets. 

By and by a man approached with some 
monkeys, and they stopped to watch them at 
their tricks. Suddenly one of them sprang into 
Frances’s arms. It pressed its ugty little face 
against her cheek, and clung to her like a child, 
and refused to go back to the man. 

After some discussion Captain McDowell 
gave the Philippino some coins, and Frances 
kept Monk. 

Monk soon became the most important mem- 
ber of the household. Every morning he would 
insist upon having his face washed and dried 
on a towel exactly as he saw the nurse do to 
Frances. 

He refused his meals unless given a nap- 
kin ; and then when he had finished, he would 
wipe his face and hands like a careful old 
man. 

Whenever Monk looked very, very good, as if 
he were in Sunday school or church, Mrs. 
McDowell always knew that he had been up 
to mischief, and set out at once to discover the 
extent of damages. 

Monk had to be left in the Philippines, 


40 


THE 1 CAN SCHOOL. 


and all Frances had to keep alive his memory 
was the photograph which she showed again to 
Virginia. 

“ I wish papa and Lucretia could see it,” 
said Virginia. “ They love monkeys.” 

Just then Mrs. Falconer rose and said : 

“ Harry, will you escort Virginia to the din- 
ing-room, and Carter, will you take Evelyn ? ” 

When they were all paired off, Miss Ellison 
struck up a march on the piano, and out they 
went. 

“ My ! ” said Billy. 

“ Ge-ee ! ” said Carter. 

Virginia never saw anything so fine. 

“It’s Thanksgiving,” said Frances, “so we 
have things Pilgrims liked.” 

In the center of the table was a lovely ship. 
It was made of spun candy, and was sailing on 
a sea of glass, surrounded by a border of lovely 
little pumpkins, “ full of candy,” Frances told 
Virginia. The ship was the Mayflower, and 
for passengers there were lovely little dolls 
dressed as Pilgrims. 

Half way down the table were great pump- 
kins, real ones, scooped out and filled with 
chrysanthemums. At the end was the biggest 
pumpkin-pie Virginia had ever seen. At the 
other was a great big turkey. On the sides 
were big pumpkins filled with all sorts of 
favors and bon-bons. 

The chandelier and room were decorated with 
ears of corn, flags, and ribbons. At each place 


NOVEMBER. 


41 


was a pretty card with the name of the little 
girl or boy who sat there painted on it. On 
the girls’ cards were also painted little Pil- 
grim girls ; on the boys’, Indians with toma- 
hawks. 

Virginia never ate so much in her life. 
Neither did Carter. When the time for ices 
came they were little ships and pumpkins and 
tomahawks. Carter ate a fierce red Indian, and 
then was happy with Miles Standish in choco- 
late and vanilla. 

“You’re a cannibal, Carter,” said Miss El- 
lison. 

“ I’m mighty full,” said Carter. “ This is a 
mighty nice party.” 

By and by Mrs. McDowell handed Lisa a knife, 
and told her to cut the pie. All the children 
stared. Why, how funny in Mrs. McDowell 
to choose Lisa ! 

“ And when the pie was opened,” said Mrs. 
McDowell as Lisa put in her knife. 

Virginia nearly jumped out of her seat, for 
the lid of the pie came off, and there inside were 
not blackbirds, but a pretty little turkey for 
each child. They were made of candy, and 
looked brown and ready for eating. 

Then Mrs. McDowell told the children that 
the Mayflower had reached Plymouth. 

“ The passengers must land,” she said. Then 
she and Miss Ellison took the dolls from the 
boat. Each little girl received one. Some of 
them had to be gotten from a table which Miss 


42 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


Ellison called England. The “ Mayflower was 
so small a boat that it could carry only a few 
passengers,” said Mrs. McDowell. 

Instead of dolls the boys each received a little 
pumpkin filled with candy. 

Then they all snapped bonbons, and put on 
fancy caps. 

Virginia was Priscilla, so her cap said. 

“ Didn’t we have a good time ? ” asked Billy 
as they put on their things to go home. 

Elsie looked very scornful. “ The idea of 
letting that Lisa do everything ! ” she said. 

Virginia, too, had wondered at this. 

Hadn’t she been told that she was not to go 
with the Swiss? 

“ I wouldn’t go with them like Frances does,” 
said Elsie, her nose in the air. “ Their father 
is a sort of hired man down at Mr. Davis’s. 
They are not in our set. Frances can do as 
she pleases ; but I, for one, don’t propose to go 
with them,” and she put her arm around Ida 
Stanley’s waist, and drew her away to whisper 
something which Virginia did not hear. 

When Virginia got into her carriage, there 
sat her mamma ready to hear everything, to 
admire the new doll, and to have her mouth 
water at the sight of the candy turkey. 

On the way home they stopped at the station 
to wait for her father’s train. 

“ It was lovely, papa,” cried Virginia, as Mr. 
Barton stepped into the carriage. “ I love the 
‘ I Can School ’ this week best of all.” 


NOVEMBER. 


43 


“Yes,” said Mr. Barton, smiling, “I hardly 
wonder that you do, Miss Barton. I remem- 
ber myself, student that I was, that I used to 
think school was at its best when it was taking 
a holiday.” 


44 


THE 1 CAN SCHOOL. 


CHAPTER IV. 

DECEMBER. 

During the month of December all sorts 
of delightful things happened in the “ I Can 
School.” In the first place it was necessary to 
practice for the Christmas entertainment, and 
this meant fun instead of lessons. Then . one 
day Miss Ellison asked the children if they 
would like a Christmas-tree. They said that 
they would ; so she invited them to come to her 
room in the afternoon, and string pop-corn, and 
make chains of tissue paper rings. Virginia 
thought it the finest Christmas she had ever 
known. 

Sometimes when they were helping her in 
her room Miss Ellison would light her cha- 
fing-dish lamp, and make chocolate, and pass it 
round in cute little blue-and- white china cups. 
One afternoon Carter drank four cups, and 
Miss Ellison only laughed. 

“ If you wuz our mamma, Miss Ellison,” he 
said, “ we’d have enough to eat whenever we 
wanted it.” 

“ You’d have indigestion,” said Miss Elli- 


DECEMBER. 


45 


Two afternoons before the last day of school 
the children brought to Miss Ellison all the 
Christmas-tree ornaments they had at their home, 
and Lisa’s brother John drove into the school- 
yard with the very biggest Christmas-tree even 
Miss Ellison had seen. Virginia was all ex- 
citement. 

“ Papa,” she said, “ I just love the ‘ I Can 
School’ more than ever.” 

“ I should imagine you do,” said Mr. Barton. 
“ In my day schools had more to do with 
lessons ; and I did not love them more than 
ever, but decidedly less, Miss Barton, most 
decidedly less as time went on.” 

“But, Edward,” put in Mrs. Barton, “the 
children do learn. Miss Ellison has different 
ways from any teacher I have ever seen ; but 
did you see Virginia’s last writing? Indeed, 
she is learning wonderfully.” 

“ And so is Lucretia,” said Virginia. “ She 
is reading on page 15 in the Primer.” 

At last came the day before Christmas. By 
ten o’clock all the papas and mammas, and 
relations and friends, had gathered in the 
Gymnasium. Across one end of the great room 
was a white curtain trimmed with holly 
branches. In front of it was a little stage. 
The chairs for the audience were arranged so 
as to leave a great square of floor unoccupied. 

At ten o'clock Miss Ellison appeared in the 
doorway. She waved her handkerchief. The 
principal’s wife then began a march on the 


46 


THE 1 CAN SCHOOL . 


piano. Then Frances appeared at the door, 
and entered, followed by the “ I Can School ” 
marching two by two. All the little girls wore 
dresses of white cheese cloth, with bands of red 
about the hem. The collars, belts, and cuffs 
were of red, and over full white waists they 
wore little bolero jackets of blue. On each 
head was a cap made of a flag. The little boys 
wore white duck suits with sashes, ties, and 
caps of red, white, and blue. 

Captain Frances walked alone, carrying a 
handsome silk flag presented to the school by 
Virginia. 

They marched, they wheeled, they formed 
squares, they divided and advanced under an 
archway of flags. They retreated, they made 
all manner of fancy figures, and in such perfect 
time that the fathers clapped their hands and 
said, “ Hurrah for the Home Guard!” and the 
mothers touched each other on the shoulders, 
and smiled and whispered, “ Isn't it cute ? ” 
“ Isn’t it lovely? ” 

When the Home Guard at last formed into 
a solid square, Frances, holding aloft the flag, 
stepped to the platform and the children 
saluted it. 

Virginia had marched in front with Harry. 
They were exactly the same size, and looked 
very serious with an overwhelming sense of 
responsibility. When Virginia passed her 
papa he looked very solemn too. 

“You see, Miss Barton,” he explained that 


DECEMBER. 


47 


evening at home, “ your parent recognizes 
authority. At West Point where they train 
soldiers, when a man’s on duty, even his parents 
have no right to speak to him. For your sake 
I controlled even my smiles.” 

After the drill, came an entertainment which 
Virginia declared was the nicest she had ever 
seen. 

“ It ought to be, goosie,” said Carter ; “ you 
ain’t never seen another.” All the children 
recited little pieces, some in costume. Billy 
was a Jap; Carter was a Chinee; Virginia 
recited a little poem about Santa Claus ; and 
Elsie was old Mother Goose. 

Then came a little play. At the end of it 
the Christmas Fairy, who was Jessie in a lovely 
white dress trimmed in red ribbons and holly, 
waved a wand. The white curtain fell, and 
every one went “ Oh ! oh ! ” There was the 
very handsomest Christmas-tree the “ I Can 
School ” had ever seen. At the top was a 
lovely star, and from below it came garlands 
of rose-colored tinsel. 

While the tree was being lighted the children 
sang a little song. Miss Ellison and the young 
lady in the pink waist, who was the music 
teacher, had taught it to them. 

It was very pretty and began : 


Once a little baby lay 
Cradled in the fragrant hay, 
Long ago on Christmas. 


48 


THE 1 CAN SCHOOL. 


There was one thing which happened which 
Virginia never forgot. 

All the children loved the rector, so Miss Elli- 
son asked him if he would talk a little to the “ I 
Can School ” about Christmas. 

The rector loved the children as much as the 
children did him, so he made his talk very short. 
Virginia did not understand all that he said ; 
but she loved him, and so she listened with a 
smile on her round little face. First he told 
them of how much he had liked the entertain- 
ment. 

“ But best of all,” he said, “ was the drill.” 
Here he looked right at Virginia, and she smiled 
more cheerfully than ever. 

“ I liked the drill, dear little ‘ I Can School,’ ” 
he said, “ because it was almost perfect. I do 
not believe any children could drill better. But 
way back of that drilling I saw work, and obedi- 
ence to you, Miss Ellison. And as I watched 
your little captain, so earnest, so zealous, I 
thought of two other captains. One was an 
old friend of mine. We were boys at school 
together. He was the father of your own cap- 
tain, and he laid down his life for the flag which 
you have saluted to-day. I remember how he 
worked, how he obeyed, and never forgot to be 
true to his flag. 

“ Then I thought of the other Captain. He 
is the Captain under whose flag I fight. You 
didn’t think that I am a soldier? Well, I am. 
Don’t you see I wear a uniform ? Are not my 


DECEMBER. 


49 


clothes different from your papa’s? Well, my 
Captain was once that little babe who lay in the 
hay on. Christmas, the one you sang about. 
Now do you know whom I mean? 

“ W ell, what I want to have you remember is 
that His flag flies ever before the Red, White, 
and Blue. 

“ His flag must be your guidon. Do you 
know what a guidon is ? It is a flag which they 
carry at the head of every marching column. 
Its color for us is red, because our Captain is 
always victorious.” 

Then he told them of what they must do to 
be true to the guidon; and Virginia, listening, 
decided that nothing would ever make her for- 
get a word the rector said, because he was so 
nice, and knew just how to talk to children. 
But this talk came before the tree was lighted. 
While the candles were burning, each child was 
given a box of candy from Miss Ellison. The 
boxes were lovely, all made of tissue paper, like 
great red, white, and blue snowballs resting in 
green leaves. 

Then they received candy rings from Jes- 
sie, and lovely cornucopias of candy from 
Frances, and little Japanese paper sachets from 
Carrie. 

As for Miss Ellison, she had a whole table of 
presents. Virginia brought her a vase. It was 
lovely, of dark brown with flowers on it. She 
picked it out herself ; and her mamma said it 
was in very good taste, and that Miss Ellison 


50 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


would be much pleased to have it. When she 
undid the paper she cried : 

“ Rockwood ! O Virginia ! To think of my 
having a piece ! ” 

Virginia did not know why she said Rock- 
wood; but she was sure Miss Ellison liked it, 
for she saw her showing it around to the 
teachers. 

Frances came and kissed Virginia good-bye. 

“Merry Christmas,” she said, and then in- 
vited her to spend a day during the holidays at 
Clover Nook. 

“ I am going to have you and Billy and Lisa 
and John and Carl.” 

“ And Elsie ? ” asked Virginia. 

Frances shook her head. 

“ She isn’t nice to Lisa,” she said. “ And 
mamma and grandma like Lisa. They say she 
is well brought up. Be sure to come, and 
bring Catherine and Lucre tia.” 

It puzzled Virginia to know why Frances 
was so nice to Lisa. Elsie would have nothing 
to do with her. 

Billy did not bother one way or the other. 

“ I like ponies, dogs, and boys,” she said. 
“ ’Cept you, Virginia, girls are always fussin’. 
Boys fight you, but they don’t stay mad like 
girls ! ” 

Virginia felt very sorry that there was to be 
no “ I Can School ” for two weeks. She would 
miss Billy, and she loved Miss Ellison. 

“ Still, you know,” said her father, “ you can 


DECEMBER. 


51 


study just the same. I will only be doing my 
duty as a parent to set you a copy each night. 
And mamma, you know, will gladly hear your 
lessons, and supply all kinds of interesting 
information about cats and dogs, hens and 
babies.” 

But Virginia did not fancy the advice. 

“ I s’ pose,” she said, “ I might as well give- 
Lucretia and Catherine holiday too. Poor lit- 
tle things,” — trying to make her voice sound 
like Miss Ellison’s, — “ they, too, must be tired 
of hens and cats and dogs and mammas.” 

Early Christmas morning Virginia slipped 
out to the dining-room, and laid a little parcel 
on her father’s plate. Then she placed one on 
her mother’s. Then on her own she laid two 
very small ones. 

“ My ! my ! what is this ? ” asked Mr. Bar- 
ton, when later they sat down to breakfast. 

“ A surprise,” said Virginia solemnly. “ And 
mamma’s is too, and so is mine.” 

They all opened their parcels. 

“And you did it, Virginia?” cried Mrs. 
Barton, the tears in her' eyes. She held in 
her hand a little book made by tying leaves of 
paper together. 

On the cover was painted a holly leaf. 
Around it was printed “ A Merry Christmas.” 

Inside were specimens of Virginia’s painting, 
drawing, number-work, and writing. 

Mr. Barton’s was like his wife’s, only on the 
front page of his, Virginia had printed “ To My 


52 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


Dear Papa.” On the front page of her mamma’s 
was “ To My Dear Mamma.” 

Both Mr. and Mrs. Barton were very much 
pleased. 

“To think that the child has learned so 
much ! ” said Virginia’s mamma. 

“ I must send mine to your grandmother 
Barton, Virginia,” said her papa, who was so 
much impressed that he failed to joke. “May 
I?” 

“ But what have you, Miss Barton ? ” he 
inquired, seeing Virginia with two opened par- 
cels also. 

“A surprise from Catherine and Lucretia,” 
she said. “ Isn’t it nice to think they have 
learned so much? I am very much pleased 
with my children.” 

“ And they put them, on your plate as you 
did ours ? ” inquired her father, inspecting the 
books, which were singularly like the work of 
their mother. 

Virginia looked very much embarrassed. She 
could not say that they had, and yet she would 
rather not say that she had put them there 
herself. There is not much surprise in sur- 
prising yourself. Her mamma came to her 
rescue. 

“What thoughtful children you have, my 
dear ! I must look at their work, and see if 
they are also good pupils. And now,” she 
said, “run and tell Nellie to get you dressed in 
your blue cloak and new bonnet ; for we are a 


DECEMBER. 


53 


little late, and must get to St. Luke’s in time 
for the service.” 

At church Virginia saw Carter. 

“ Ain’t you glad it’s holiday ? ” he asked, as 
they walked home in front of their mammas. 

“ Yes,” said Virginia very seriously. “ School 
is nice, but no school is better.” 


54 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


CHAPTER V. 

JANUARY. 

On the day following New Year Virginia 
asked her mother to please fix her some lunch. 

“ It’s school to-day,” she remarked to her 
papa. 

“ Poor Miss Ellison ! ” said Mr. Barton. 
“ How much she must love you this morning ! ” 

“ She does,” said Virginia confidently ; “ she’ll 
be just as glad to see us.” 

“ And the Lady Principal ? ” inquired Mr. 
Barton. 

Virginia was not so certain. 

She was still very much afraid of the Lady 
Principal, and tried to make herself as small as 
possible whenever she saw that august person- 
age approaching. 

“ She’s different,” she said ; “ she don’t under- 
stand little children, Billy says. Carter, he 
says she’s mean.” 

“ Don’t talk that way about your teachers, 
Virginia,” said her mamma, tucking a napkin 
over the lunch she was putting in the basket ; 
“ Miss Mason is an excellent lady. I admire 
her very much, and she is only severe when you 


JANUARY. 


55 


need it. Carter, I am sure, needs it quite 
often. And, Edward, don’t joke with Virginia 
about her teachers. I want her to look up to 
them.” 

Mr. Barton surveyed the very small person 
of his daughter. 

“ Miss Barton,” he said, “ let me see you 
ever attempting to look down upon your edu- 
cational advisers, and I shall speak to the 
principal, and have you severely disciplined.” 

“ Oh, Edward, don’t!” said Mrs. Barton; “do 
be serious. You joke about everything. How 
can I rear Virginia to have proper ideas of life 
when you make fun of everything I say ? ” 

For once Mr. Barton had no answer to make. 
He kissed his wife instead, and taking Virginia 
by the hand said, “ Ready, Miss Barton? Kiss 
mamma good-by then, and we’ll be off to 
school.” 

January in the “I Can School” was destined to 
be a month of troubles. The children were 
very fidgety, and showed a tendency to be 
unruly. 

All the candy of Christmas week, not to 
mention fruit-cake, mince-pies, nuts, and plum- 
pudding, had upset the small stomachs ; and 
Miss Ellison began to be persuaded that it 
would be wiser to give a school a spring holi- 
day in place of so many days at Christmas. 

Elsie was very rude to Lisa, and said such 
ugly things to her that Virginia was shocked. 
Carter grumbled at everything. Mary had the 


56 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


toothache, and Anna did nothing but jingle her 
Christmas bracelets. 

Frances told Miss Ellison that she had been 
thinking about the guidon, and that she meant 
to try to behave. Even she, however, grew 
cross when the Home Guard at drill-time fell 
to fussing over flags and partners. 

She tried to mend matters ; but she only 
angered Elsie, and they had sharp words. 
Elsie was a queer child. Her father and mother 
were the richest people in Fairview. “ Her 
mamma is stylish,” Billy told Virginia. It 
seemed very queer to the children that Elsie 
was always with the servants. Her papa was 
away a greater part of the time, on business or 
pleasure. Sometimes her mother went with 
him, but even when she did not she was much 
from home with her friends. Once Elsie had 
had a little brother. He had died very sud- 
denly, Jessie told the children ; and Mrs. 
Harrison had kept away from home more and 
more since his death, for she had loved him 
much more than she did Elsie. 

“ Her mamma’s not American,” went on Jessie, 
who knew everything about grown-up people. 
“ My papa says she’s German.” 

One evening Virginia heard her mamma dis- 
cussing the matter with her papa, who explained 
that Mr. Harrison had met his wife while 
traveling in Europe. 

“Nobody knows much about her,” he said. 
“ It’s a pity she leaves the child so much to the 


JANUARY. 


57 


servants. They teach her to judge everything 
by money, and to look down on people unless 
they are rich.” 

Elsie herself thought that her family was 
the richest and finest in Fairview, and so she 
put on what Carter called “ airs.” 

But something happened in the “ I Can School ” 
which made Elsie a different girl. It was this. 

One morning Virginia had reached the school 
gate when she was startled by screams. Billy 
and Carter and Margaret dashed from the 
schoolroom door calling Miss Ellison’s name, 
and running towards the house of the principal 
as fast as they could. 

“ It’s fire ! ” screamed Billy. 

“ It’s Frances ! Miss Ellison ! Miss Elli- 
son I ” 

In a moment Miss Ellison, followed by the 
principal and the janitor, reached the school- 
room, Virginia at their heels. 

It was a dreadful sight. Virginia never for- 
got it. 

Poor little Frances was terribly burned, and 
it was all Elsie’s fault. 

Miss Ellison hurried Carter for the doctor ; 
and soon poor little Frances, her burns dressed, 
was on her way to Clover Nook. John, too, 
was badly burned about the hands. He had 
had the sense to run and get cloaks and wrap 
Frances in the thickest, thus smothering the 
flames. Lisa had shut the door and stopped 
the draught. It was only when Frances had 


58 


THE I CAN SCHOOL . 


been taken home and all was settled that Miss 
Ellison heard what really had happened. The 
fire was not burning when the children arrived. 
The janitor could not be found to rekindle it, 
so Elsie and the boys went to the shed to get 
some sticks of wood. Elsie had spied a can of 
coal-oil. 

The janitor had a bad habit of soaking the 
kindling in the oil, or else of pouring it over 
the wood after he placed it in the stove. 

Miss Ellison, finding this out, had complained 
of the habit more than once. 

When Elsie saw the can she at once seized 
it. 

“ I’ve always wanted to see it burn up,” she 
said, and bore the can to the schoolroom. 

As soon as Lisa saw the can she protested. 

“ Don’t do that, Elsie,” she said. 

This made Elsie very angry. 

“ Mind your own affairs,” she said. 

Frances tried to make peace. 

“ O Elsie ! remember the guidon. Miss 
Ellison don’t let William use that, and people 
get burned up that way.” 

But Elsie only tossed her head. Then no 
one could tell what actually occurred ; but sud- 
denly there had been a scuffle over the can, 
then a blaze, and Frances was in flames. 

The “ I Can School ” was so upset that the 
principal advised Miss Ellison to send the 
children home. 

During all the trouble Elsie sat in her desk. 


JANUARY . 


59 


There was a hard, set look on her little white 
face. 

“ I didn’t mean to burn her,” she said when 
Miss Ellison tried to talk to her. “ It was her 
own fault.” 

“ She’s a wicked girl,” said Billy to Virginia ; 
“did you hear her tell Miss Ellison that if 
Frances had minded her own affairs it wouldn’t 
have happened ? ” 

Virginia was very much shocked. If she 
had set fire to Frances she would have cried all 
day, but nobody had seen Elsie shed a tear. 

“ She’s an awful girl, mamma,” she said when 
she had told the story. “ I guess I won’t play 
with her till she’s sorry.” 

For days the Little Captain was very, very 
ill. 

“ The doctor does not know yet whether she 
will ever get well,” Miss Ellison told the chil- 
dren. 

“ I sent her grapes and flowers,” said Elsie. 

She was still very white, but she had not 
said she was sorry. 

Virginia could not see why Miss Ellison was 
so fond of her. 

“ I would whip her hard if she were Lucre- 
tia or Catherine,” she told Billy. 

“I’d whup her if I was Miss McDowell,” 
said Carter. “ She ought to be Miss James’s 
child. She pinches Tom when he’s bad.” 

“ My mamma whips,” said Harry. 

“ My mamma, she locks you up,” said Jessie. 


60 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


After the accident the “ I Can School ” was 
very good. In the afternoon each child would 
take time to walk to Clover Nook to inquire for 
the Little Captain. It was a dreadful thing to 
think that Frances might die. It troubled 
Virginia so that she grew quite pale. On the 
day when the Little Captain was the sickest, 
Virginia started home without her Primer. 

“ I will need it for Lucretia and Catherine,” 
she told Billy, and went back to get it. 

At the door she paused. 

Some one was crying. 

She started in but stopped again when she 
saw Elsie. Miss Ellison had her in her lap. 

“ I am sorry,” she heard her sob, “ I’ve 
killed Frances, I’ve killed her, and what shall I 
do ? What shall I do ? Nobody loves me. 
Mamma don’t. Oh, if somebody loved me ! ” 

Virginia, frightened, crept away, without her 
Primer. 

That afternoon she saw Miss Ellison on her 
road to Clover Nook. She held Elsie’s hand, 
and together they entered the great iron gates 
and went up the road to the house. 

But Frances did not die. In a few weeks 
she was so well that her mother took her to 
Florida. Harry and his mother went also for 
a few weeks’ stay. One day the “ I Can 
School ” wrote them both letters. 

Harry sent two kinds of answers. The first 
was a nice letter telling the “ I Can School ” all 
about his trip. 


JANUARY. 


61 


The second was a new pupil. He was about 
six inches long, and he arrived in a box packed 
in moss. 

Miss Ellison brought him to school one Mon- 
day morning. She told the children that a box 
had come directed to her. She had opened it, 
thinking it must be a present from some friend. 
She had put her hand right into the moss. “ I 
felt something cold and wriggly,” she said, “ and 
here it is.” 

Then she showed the children the new pupil. 
She took out her roll book, and put down his 
name. It was Billy Alligator. 

“ Miss Ellison,” asked the other Billy, “ may 
I take the new pupil to the Principal and have 
him examined?” Miss Ellison laughed, and 
gave Billy the box. 

When Billy returned she said that the Prin- 
cipal had decided that the new pupil must go 
in the Primer. 

He was a very good pupil. He never rattled 
pencils, nor upset ink, nor got wet clay on the 
desks, nor failed in his lessons. He kept his 
mouth tightly closed, and made no noise of 
any kind. Instead of sitting in a desk, he lay 
in a pan of white sand. At recess the children 
would crowd around and watch him. If they 
touched him he would open his mouth “ just 
like alligators do when you make them on the 
wall with your hands for shadows,” said Mary. 

But one day the children put the new pupil 
on the sand table. He strolled about in his 


62 


THE I CAE SCHOOL. 


alligator way, and made the children laugh. 
But, alas, Billy Alligator strolled too near the 
edge of the table. “ Oh ! ” screamed the chil- 
dren, for Billy Alligator, with a bump, struck 
the hard wood of the floor. 

Whether he injured himself fatally, or 
whether the climate did not agree with him, no 
one could tell ; but from that day he grew 
more and more quiet, and died without a 
word. 

“ Billy Alligator’s dead, papa,” announced 
Virginia one evening. 

“ My ! My ! ” said Mr. Barton. “ When will 
the funeral take place ? ” 

“ To-morrow, at recess,” said Virginia. 

One of the big boys dug a grave under the 
great beech in the school-yard, and there they 
laid Billy Alligator. The other Billy bore the 
coffin. It was of pasteboard covered with tis- 
sue paper. On the top were flowers which 
Elsie brought from her green-house. 

Then followed a sad procession, Miss Ellison 
and the “ I Can School ” walking two by two. 
When the grave was arranged, Mary put up a 
headstone. It was made of wood. On it was 
printed : — 

HERE LIES BILLY ALLIGATOR. 

R. I. P. 

“ And that’s the only death we’ve had in the 
4 1 Can School,’ ” said Virginia, telling her papa 
about the funeral. 


JANUARY. 


68 


Before January was ended everybody noticed 
a change in Elsie. 

“ Mamma, she’s polite even to Lisa,” Vir- 
ginia reported. “ She gave her some lunch to- 
day.” Virginia was very glad, for she did not 
like to be angry with Elsie. 

“ She plays mother better than anybody but 
Billy,” she told her mamma. 

Now that she was truly sorry, Virginia felt 
that she could go with her again. 

Nobody else got into trouble in January; 
but something happened to Harry in February, 
after he had returned from his trip to Florida. 


64 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


CHAPTER VI. 

FEBRUARY. 

In February many things happened in the 
“ I Can School.” This seems very strange, for 
February is the shortest month in the year, but 
it was true. First, there was the trouble about 
the luncheon. Then there was the Thoughtful 
Club. Then St. Valentine, and George Wash- 
ington, and Abraham Lincoln, all had birth- 
days. 

The trouble about the luncheons was this. 

One morning Virginia told Miss Ellison that 
her lunch was gone from her desk. 

“ And there was chocolate cake,” she said 
sadly. 

“ And those boys took it,” said Mary, point- 
ing to John, Harry, and Alex. 

“ Tell tale,” said Carter scornfully. 

Miss Ellison looked them in their faces a 
moment. 

“ Did you, boys ? ” she asked. 

They looked very red. 

“Come out front,” she said, and she stood 
them in a row. 

Harry looked so innocent in his pretty sailor 


FEBRUARY. 


65 


suit, with the big collar, that Virginia was sure 
it was not he who had taken her cake. 

“ And did you take it ? ” asked Miss Ellison 
sadly. It always hurt her to have the “ I Can 
School” naughty. 

“ Yes’m.” Down went all the heads. 

“And why?” 

“ ’Cause we were hungry,” said Harry. 

“ ’Cause it was good,” said John. 

Alex was silent. 

Miss Ellison’s look made him feel bad. 

“ Then what are you ? ” asked Miss Ellison 
severely. “ What are people who take what 
does not belong to them ? ” 

Virginia grew cold at the thought of such a 
question. She was sure that she would die of 
shame if Miss Ellison should say such an awful 
thing to her. 

“ Thieves ! ” said Harry. 

“ Thieves ! ” said John. 

But Alex could not bring himself to utter 
this awful word. 

Instead he drew his coat-sleeve across his 
eyes. 

“If your mother,” went on Miss Ellison, 
“ made a lovely big chocolate cake and put it on 
the sideboard, and a tramp walked in and car- 
ried it off, what would he be ? ” 

“ A thief,” said Harry, shuffling his feet and 
looking down. “ A thief,” said John, still brave. 

But Alex had begun to cry. His face was 
entirely hidden on his coat-sleeve. 


66 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


Virginia whispered to Billy that she thought 
he must be the best of the boys. 

Billy shrugged her shoulders. 

“ Maybe,” said this knowing little girl. “ I 
don’t like cry babies.” 

For punishment Miss Ellison said the three 
little boys must remain in at recess for a week, 
and that on the morrow each must bring Vir- 
ginia lunch in place of the one he had taken. 

At this the three little boys looked very grave. 

They were not in the habit of bringing 
lunches, and they would have to tell their 
mothers why they wanted them. Billy said that 
was the reason why Miss Ellison had made up 
this punishment. 

Next morning Alex, shamefaced, blushing, 
handed Virginia a bag of oatmeal crackers. He 
had taken five cents from his bank to buy 
them. 

Johnnie handed her a small bundle. In it 
were biscuits upon which he had accidentally 
sat in the chapel. 

Harry’s lunch was wrapped in a napkin, and 
looked very nice. Virginia opened it, and 
found beaten biscuits and maccaroons. She 
looked at both of these articles, and she felt 
very glad that the boys had taken her chocolate 
cake. She promised to share this fine luncheon 
with Billy. 

At recess Harry’s big sister came into the 
room. The older pupils were always dismissed 
before the primary ones. 


FEBRUARY. 


67 


“ Miss Ellison,” she said, “ will yon please 
ask Harry to give me my lunch ? He took it 
off the sideboard where mamma left it.” 

At this Harry began to grin. 

“ Where is Dorothy’s lunch, Harry ? ” in- 
quired Miss Ellison. “ Give it to her.” 

“ Virginia’s got it,” said Harry. 

“ Why, Harry Armstrong ! ” cried Miss Elli- 
son. “ Do you mean to say that you took a 
second lunch to pay back for the first ? ” 

“ Yes’m,” said Harry. 

“ And why?” 

“ ’Cause I didn’t want mamma to know about 
Virginia’s.” 

“ All of which goes to prove,” said Mr. Barton, 
when Virginia told him of what he called 
Harry’s iniquity, “ that Solomon knew little 
boys and what they need much better than all 
the lady teachers in the world.” 

“ Billy says,” remarked Virginia, “ that Harry 
meant it for a joke.” 

Billy and Virginia liked Harry the best of all 
the boys. When one likes a person it is some- 
times very easy to make excuses for him. But 
Miss Ellison did not see it in that way. 

She sent Harry to the Lady Principal. He 
came back looking very serious, and he did not 
open his mouth, unless Miss Ellison asked him 
a question, for a whole week. 

The next thing which happened was the 
Thoughtful Club. 

On the first Friday in February Miss Ellison 


68 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


asked the “ I Can School ” how it would like to 
have a club. 

The children were delighted; and Virginia 
beamed at the thought of belonging to some- 
thing, like her mother, who went to the city once 
a month, to attend the meetings of the W Oman’s 
Club. First Miss Ellison explained that every 
club must have rules. Then she read the rules 
of the club which they were to form. She 
called these rules a Constitution. Here they 
are : — 


Article i. — The name of the club shall be the 
“ Thoughtful Club.” 

Article ii. — The object of this club shall be to 
make the members forget them- 
selves in little thoughtful acts for 
others. 

Article hi. — The members shall be the pupils of 
the “I Can School.” 

Article iv. — The officers shall be a President, a 
Vice-President, a Secretary, and a 
Treasurer. 

Article v Every member must agree to do one 

thoughtful act each week, and, at 
the club meeting, report some 
thoughtful act they have seen 
another do. Also the club as a 
body must do something each week 
for the good of some person or 
institution. 

The children decided that they would wear 
red ribbon badges, and paint T. C. on them in 
gold letters. 

“When you see them,” said Miss Ellison, 


FEBRUARY. 


69 


“ it will remind yon to think more of other peo- 
ple than you do of yourself.” 

Then came the election of officers. Mary 
was elected President ; Harcy, Vice-President ; 
Sallie, Secretary ; and Elsie, Treasurer. 

“ I belong to a club,” said Virginia to her papa. 

“ The heaviest blow of all, Miss Barton ! ” 
and he tore his hair in mock desperation. 
“ First, a daughter of letters, then a daughter 
of fashion, now a daughter of clubs.” 

But Virginia decided that the Thoughtful 
Club was the best part of the “ I Can School.” 
It met on Friday, after the recess. First came 
the business, and then the entertainment. On 
the first Friday, Miss Ellison and the Third 
Readers arranged the programme. On the sec- 
ond Friday, the Second Readers took charge of 
matters. On the third, Miss Ellison announced, 
the First Readers and Primers would get up a 
programme. 

Virginia was much troubled. So was Billy. 
They could think of nothing. The Third Read- 
ers had had animal games with prizes ; the 
Second Readers had had a drawing game. 
Now what could the First Readers and Primers 
do ? At last they went to Mrs. Barton. 

“ Oh, mamma ! ” 

“ Oh, Mrs. Barton ! ” they cried, when they 
heard what she proposed. 

“ It will be nicer than anything yet,” said 
Billy. “ They’ll like it better than games.” 

“ Carter will,” said Virginia. 


70 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


When Friday came, Mary took the chair. 
That means that she sat by the desk, and rapped 
with a ruler. 

“The Thoughtful Club will please come to 
order,” she said. 

Then the Secretary read the account of the 
meeting of the week before. Miss Ellison 
called this the Minutes. After this, each child 
told of some thoughtful thing he or she had 
tried to do. Then Miss Ellison gave each of 
them something to do for the coming week. 
Then each child pasted some pictures in a 
scrap-book. These scrap-books were to be 
taken later on to the Children’s Hospital. 

All this time the eyes of the “ I Can School ” 
had been wandering to the big table. It was 
all covered with papers. Under those papers, 
they knew, was the entertainment provided by 
the Primers and First Readers. Virginia and 
Billy looked very important. At last the busi- 
ness was ended. 

The Primers and First Readers hurried to the 
table. They pushed off the papers, and there 
was Miss Ellison’s chafing-dish. Beside it stood 
her blue cups and saucers. 

Under a big napkin were plates of sugary 
cookies and a huge dish of whipped cream. 

Miss Ellison made chocolate in the chafing- 
dish. She filled the little cups half full, and 
then heaped them up with whipped cream. 

The Primers and First Readers passed the 
cups. Then they carried round the cakes. 


FEBRUARY. 


71 


“ I’d rather eat than play games,” said Carter: 
“ this wuz the nicest club-meeting yet. I like 
clubs when they have things to eat. It’s better 
than so much talking.” 

This made Virginia and Billy very happy. 
Carter was a hard person to please. He sel- 
dom praised anything, but he always knew 
what was wrong. 

“ Some day he will be an editor,” said Miss 
Ellison. 

“ Like my papa,” answered Carter. “ That’s 
what I want to be.” 

On the fourteenth of February, Miss Ellison 
told the “ I Can School ” about old Bishop 
Valentine. 

“ Once he cured a little lame boy, papa,” 
said Virginia that evening; “and that’s the 
reason why we do things for other people to- 
day, — send things, you know.” 

Miss Ellison let the children have a Valen- 
tine Box. It stood on her table, and the chil- 
dren slipped in their valentines through a slit 
in the lid. 

Just before the close of school Miss Ellison 
opened it, and distributed the valentines. 
Virginia had six. One was a beauty. It had 
a piece of stiff cardboard glued on at the 
back. 

“You can stand it up,” said Billy. She 
showed a very deep interest in this one valen- 
tine. 

“ You can stand it up,” she repeated, pulling 


72 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


out the board. Virginia wondered how Billy 
knew just how to fix it. 

“ She sent it, you goosie,” said Carter, 
watching Virginia open number two. 

“ It’s got verses on it,” he added anxiously, 
when Virginia, content with its outside beauty, 
was not investigating the inside. 

“You sent that one,” said Billy triumph- 
antly. 

Miss Ellison had one from every child. 

Before the “ I Can School ” went home, 
Miss Ellison begged all the children to be very 
careful and hurt no one’s feelings by sending 
comic ones with unkind verses. “ And, chil- 
dren,” she added, “ I want every one of you to 
send one to some child who won’t get any other- 
wise ; will you ? ” 

The children all promised. 

“ I will send one to Lucretia and Catherine,” 
said Virginia to Billy. “ Do you think any 
one else will send them any ? ” 

“No, I don’t,” said Billy. “I guess they 
won’t get any others. I’m going to send one 
to Miss Mason. She’ll never guess who sent 
it. I like Miss Mason anyhow.” 

The other birthdays in February were not 
so much fun as Bishop Valentine’s. 

When Lincoln’s birthday came, they all 
wrote compositions. They each had a picture 
to paste on. Virginia’s was Lincoln himself. 
Billy had a log house, which was his first 
home. 


FEBRUARY. 


73 


At first the “ I Can School ” meant to cele- 
brate George Washington’s birthday with an- 
other entertainment. Miss Ellison, however, 
said entertainments were too upsetting. They 
are apt, she said, to give a teacher nervous 
prostration. It would be just as patriotic and 
much quieter to write compositions. 

She gave them pictures of Washington, of 
Lady Washington, and of Mount Vernon, the 
home of the Washingtons. Then she told 
them all about Washington, what a good boy 
he was, and how very, very neatly he kept his 
copy-books. 

Here all the little boys made faces. They 
felt that it was very hard really to like any- 
body, except a girl, who kept a neat copy- 
book. 

Then Miss Ellison told how, later on, Wash- 
ington fought for our country and conquered 
the British. 

This made the boys feel better. It was all 
right to fight, but they had their own ideas 
about copy-books. 

Then Miss Ellison let Carter tell the story 
of the hatchet; and then John, who seldom 
opened his mouth, jumped up and asked if 
he could tell the story of the great man of 
Switzerland. 

Virginia thought the story of William Tell, 
and of how he shot the apple from his son’s 
head, the finest story she ever had heard. 

When the time came to write the compo- 


74 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


sitions she was very much mixed up as to 
exactly what either of the heroes did ; but Miss 
Ellison spelled for her, and she wrote this. 
She had stopped printing now. 


“ cl loOK; C^yOAxyO 11/ 
dCo iamx^ co cyoo>d {kvi^. 

dOo CO QfuUUihU. 

ooofc coto oJ^iXa^AAaaj L oA/ foUo CiX>TO. 
KxoCo vbUM> VlcL ofo?xfexo. 

cl \Am1L TOCOTVOIO CO cAxXcl jx>Av t n UL'VYV. 

vnxi/vrbvnxx/ umZL wu> co TiX4A> 
fco-A^o cloXt u>loeyro d cotvo CotAMyvo. 

duo oaxwroe^ o^ (J^oAx^e^ li/a^kl/vTxp- 

tcVYO.” 


Virginia was very proud of her composition 
until she looked at Elizabeth’s. Elizabeth was 
only seven, but she was in the Second Reader, 
and could write as plain as a copy-book. Her 
composition was four pages long, and told 
many, many things about Washington. When 
the compositions were finished and tacked up 
about the room, Miss Ellison let the “I Can 
School ” mold in the clay. 

The boys tried to make hatchets. The little 
girls did make nice round cherries. 

Just before the bell rang, Miss Ellison told 
the children that Washington’s birthday would 
be a holiday, and that they need not come to 
school. 


FEBRUARY. 


75 


“I like George Washington,” said Virginia. 
“ He loved to go to school, but he gives us a 
holiday.” 

Her papa laughed, and started to say some- 
thing. 

“ Now, Edward, don’t,” said his wife quickly. 
“ You must, at least, let Virginia alone about 
W ashington.” 


76 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


CHAPTER VII. 

MARCH. 

Nothing happened in the “ I Can School” in 
the early part of March but lessons. 

“ This is a good working month,” said Miss 
Ellison ; so she gave very long, hard lessons. 

Towards the end of the month Frances re- 
turned from Florida, and came back to school. 
She was quite well again. Fortunately, the 
burns were not where the scars could show, so 
she looked as pretty as before the accident. 
At first Elsie was very shy with her; but 
Frances wanted to be friends, and soon all was 
right. 

One day Elsie would not come with the rest 
to recess. 

“ I want to talk to Miss Ellison,” she said. 

The children wondered what the talk was 
about. They peeped in the window, and con- 
cluded that it must be nice, for Miss Ellison 
looked very much pleased. Sometimes Virginia 
felt that she wished Miss Ellison did not think 
so much of Elsie. 

“ She cares more for her now than for any of 
the children,” she told her mamma. 


MARCH. 


77 


“ It is because Elsie needs her, Virginia,” said 
Mrs. Barton. 

On the day after Miss Ellison’s talk with 
Elsie, the “I Can School ” were told that some- 
thing very nice was to happen in a week. In 
the meantime, however, they must go on with 
their blank books. In these books they were 
to write the name of each bird and of each 
flower as they appeared in the spring. 

The schoolhouse stood in a large yard. In 
it grew a little forest of trees. Virginia loved 
the squirrels which were always running about 
the branches, and now the birds began to fly 
about them also. 

About a half mile from the school was a real 
wood. Every once in a while, in the afternoon, 
Miss Ellison would take the children and walk 
up to these woods to see if the flowers were 
stirring. Virginia was proud of her blank-book. 

“ I will keep it neat, like George Washing- 
ton,” she said. 

In a week Miss Ellison told the “ I Can School” 
about the pleasant thing. Elsie had discovered 
that she and Frances and Lisa all had a birth- 
day on the same date. Her mamma had given 
her permission to have a party for the three. 
It was to be given at the club house, as the 
Harrisons’ house was too far for the children 
who had no carriages. 

“ It will be a Red, White, and Blue Party,” 
said Elsie, “ because of the Home Guard. , It 
is from three to six on Friday.” 


78 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


Virginia was very much puzzled when she 
heard that the party was to be for Lisa too. 

“ Elsie,” she said, “ you told me not to go 
with the Swiss.” 

Elsie looked very much ashamed. 

“ I know, Virginia,” she said. “ I am trying 
to be different. Do you remember the guidon ? 
I am trying to follow it. I promised Miss Elli- 
son.” 

It was very hard for Elsie to say this. She 
was a child who liked to keep her thoughts to 
herself. 

Virginia was very glad that she could go 
with the Swiss. At recess she went up to Lisa 
and offered her a biscuit. This was Virginia’s 
first step in the road of friendship. So far she 
had found it invariably successful. 

“ My goodness ! ” said Mr. Barton, when he 
heard of the party. “ More gayety ! Are you 
quite sure, Miss Barton, that it will not inter- 
fere with your studies ? ” 

Virginia was quite sure. To prove it she 
brought her Primer, and her father had to hear 
about the white hen and the red cherry. 

On the day of the party Mrs. Barton laid 
out Virginia’s best clothes. Her dress was of 
soft pink silk, and the trimming was of lace 
and ribbons. Virginia would have liked to take 
Lucretia ; but her mamma told her that this was 
a big party, where children so young as Lucre- 
tia would be decidedly in the way. 

“Instead of Lucretia, I will go with you,” 


MARCH. 


79 


she said ; and then she told Virginia that Mrs. 
Harrison had invited all the mammas. 

“ And the Bird Man, mamma ? ” cried Vir- 
ginia. 

Virginia loved the Bird Man next best to her 
mamma and papa and grandma and Uncle John 
and Lucretia and Miss Ellison. He came to 
the “ I Can School ” once a week and told the 
children about birds. 

He knew all sorts of things about them — 
how they build their nests, how they train their 
children, how they sing, what they look like. 
The Bird Man studied the ways of birds for a 
living. He wrote about them for papers and 
magazines, and gave talks at different schools. 
He was gentle and kind with children, and 
never laughed at their answers. 

Mrs. Barton did not know whether he would 
be at the party or not. 

Virginia hoped so. She would like the Bird 
Man to see her new clothes. 

When she saw the club house she thought it 
the loveliest place that she had ever seen. It 
was decorated in red roses, white roses, and 
violets for blue. Between the large room and 
the room where the table was set was a screen 
made of smilax and the three kinds of flowers. 
Flags were draped about, the walls, and gar- 
lands of greens and small flags were carried from 
the chandelier to the four corners of the room. 

When Mrs. Barton and Virginia arrived, 
almost all the children were there. The little 


80 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


girls went wandering round, looking at the 
flowers ; but all the boys were again in a corner 
by themselves. Their collars were very high, 
and their faces were very red ; and Virginia 
noticed, with surprise, that the hands of all 
were very, very clean. She had never before 
known how clean little boys’ hands could be. 

Elsie, Lisa, and Frances stood by the screen 
of flowers. Their dresses were made alike, but 
were of different colors. Frances wore white ; 
Lisa, blue ; Elsie, red. They were made of silk, 
and were birthday presents from Mrs. Harrison. 

The most puzzling thing to Virginia was the 
way the boys acted. 

They stayed in the corner and said, “ Yes, 
ma’am,” and “ No, ma’am,” when anybody 
chanced to speak to them. They looked at 
the little girls as if they hated them. 

When a lady sat down at the piano and 
began to play, Virginia went up to Carter. 

“ Let’s dance,” she began to say, when Billy 
pulled her away. 

“ You mustn’t ask boys to dance, Virginia,” 
she said ; “ they’ll ask you.” 

This puzzled Virginia still more. It was all 
very well to say “they’ll ask you,” but, cer- 
tainly, they did not ask her nor any one else ; 
nor would they dance at all until their* mothers 
took them by their shoulders and made them. 

By and by,, however, their shyness wore 
off ; and the mothers looked worried and said, 
“ Don’t.” 


MARCH. 


81 


As the boys hated dancing, Miss Ellison 
proposed games. 

Then came the part Virginia called the 
party. 

The cake made all the children go “ Oh ! ” 

It was made in the city by a lady confec- 
tioner. When she heard that it was for the 
birthday of three little children she made a 
center-piece of three little lambs in icing. 
Around them was a clover leaf made of candles. 
Each curve stood for one birthday. Elsa’s 
curve was of lovely blue candles, Frances’s 
curve was of white ones, Elsie’s of red. 

The ices and cakes were made to represent 
American flags. 

At every child’s place was a little box tied 
with red, white, and blue ribbon. 

When Virginia opened hers she cried, “ Oh 
Billy, it’s a pin ! ” 

“ It’s the guidon,” explained Elsie. | 

“To make us all remember,” said Miss 
Ellison, pinning hers on the front of her dress. 
It was made of silver, enameled with red, and 
shaped like the real guidon. 

Just as the party was ending a strange thing 
happened. 

Virginia and her mother were standing by 
Mrs. Harrison when they noticed some one 
come to the door and look in, as if hunting 
for some child. She was so plainly Hressed 
that Virginia thought it must be a nurse. 
Mrs. Harrison, seeing her, went to the door. 


82 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


“ Do yon want any one ? ” she began to ask, 
when all the ladies were startled by a cry. 

“Elsa! Elsa!” 

The strange person was holding out both her 
hands to Mrs. Harrison. To the surprise of 
the ladies Elsie’s mother burst into tears, and 
threw her arms around the strange person at 
the door. 

“ It is a very interesting story,” Mrs. Barton 
told her husband that evening. “ When Mrs. 
Harrison was a little girl of ten or eleven, she 
was adopted by some wealthy English people, 
who took a fancy to her when traveling in 
Switzerland. At their home she met Mr. Har- 
rison, who married her. She was never per- 
mitted to write to her own people by her 
adopted parents, and in time she lost all trace 
of them. This, it seems, is an older sister, one 
who was always very devoted to the pretty little 
Elsa.” 

“ Lisa’s mamma is Elsie’s aunt, isn’t she, 
mamma?” inquired Virginia, who had been 
listening with great interest. 

“ Yes, dear,” said Mrs. Barton. “ It seems,” 
and she turned to her husband, “ that this 
older sister married when very young, and her 
husband decided to come to America. They 
drifted to Fairview, where the husband has 
been working land on shares. They are very 
poor, — so poor that Lisa could not have come 
to the party if Mrs. Harrison had not thought 
of giving the children dresses for presents. 


MARCH. 


88 


Mrs. McDowell agreed about Frances, so that 
Lisa would not be hurt. The mother had 
heard Lisa talk of Elsie ; but she had no idea 
that the rich Mrs. Harrison was her own sister, 
— her pretty little Elsa.” 

Virginia thought it very strange that Elsie 
and Lisa should be cousins. In spite of Elsie’s 
improved ways she was not very happy over 
it. It was hard to know that her family was 
not so fine as the servants had taught her to 
believe, and, too, it was harder still to have the 
children all find out that the children whom 
she had treated so badly were her own first 
cousins. 

Her father at once got Lisa’s father some- 
thing better to do. Then he offered them for a 
home a house which stood on his own place. 
Mrs. Harrison at once bought good clothes for 
her sister and the children. 

“ It’s like the stories* in the fairy books,” 
said Virginia. “ The poor people turn out 
kings and queens.” 

“ All which, Miss Barton,” said her father 
meaningly, “ would teach us that it is just as 
well to be kind and polite to everybody, even 
to the Swiss.” 

“ Yes, papa,” said Virginia. 

Her face grew quite red. Her own small 
conscience was not altogether easy on the sub- 
ject of Lisa. 

The rest of March was nothing but lessons. 
The Third Readers finished their books ; the 


84 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


Second Readers wrote the last word in their 
copy-books ; the First Readers began painting 
in lovely new color books. 

Billy had gone into the Second Reader, and 
was now learning definitions of spelling words. 

One day Miss Ellison asked her to spell 
woman. 

“ W-o-,” said Billy, “ m-a-n — woman.” 

“What does woman mean?” asked Miss 
Ellison. 

Billy struggled a little and wrinkled her 
brow. 

At last she got out the definition she had 
learned. Her sister had found it for her in 
the big dictionary. 

“ A woman is an adult female of the human 
race.” 

“ My ! ” said Carter, “ isn’t Billy smart ! ” 

Virginia thought this such a grand definition 
that she asked Billy to teach it to her. 

“ Lucretia and Catherine know it now, too,” 
she told her father. “ They’re going to be 
women, Billy says, and they must know what 
they are.” 

“ Most certainly, Miss Barton,” said her 
father, “ I entirely approve of your educational 
methods in bringing up your children.” 

The proudest moment of Virginia’s life 
occurred on March 80. Miss Ellison called 
her to her knee. 

“ Virginia,” she said, smoothing her curls, 
“ on Monday you may bring a First Reader. 


MARCH. 


85 


You know the Primer so well that I think you 
would like something different.” 

Then Miss Ellison kissed her, and sent her 
to her seat. That night Mr. Barton learned 
that he must purchase a First Reader. 

When he brought ifc home Mr. Barton cov- 
ered it with brown paper, and he printed 
Virginia’s name on the outside, and wrote it 
within. 

First Readers do not seem to be gloomy 
things ; but this one made Mrs. Barton very 
sad. “ Virginia is growing old too fast,” she 
told her husband. “ To think of my baby 
being in the First Reader ! ” 

“ And my baby too,” said Virginia. “ I 
have just told Catherine that she is ready for 
the First Reader too. Lucretia is too stupid. 
She can’t tell the difference between the white 
hen and the black cat, even when I show her 
the pictures.” 


86 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

APRIL. 

The Bird Man was not at the party, but he 
came the next week to school. 

“Spring is early this year,” he said. “We 
must keep our eyes open for the birds.” 

Then he gave his talk. He told them 
about the Kentucky birds, and their ways: 
The blue-bird, he said, is more loving than any 
of the other birds. The papa blue-bird loves 
the mamma blue-bird, and has little calls for 
her which no one else understands. The Bird 
Man called them love notes. Virginia hoped 
blue-birds would build in their trees. 

When the days were pleasant the Bird Man 
took the children to walk. He taught them to 
know the birds by their notes. Virginia al- 
ways walked by the Bird Man, holding fast to 
his hand, and listening very intently. She 
loved the Bird Man, and she loved the birds. 
It made her very happy to hear that the birds 
flying about in her yard were hunting places to 
build nests. 

“ I will teach Lucretia and Catherine to 
be kind to birds,” she told her father. “ The 


APRIL. 


87 


Bird Man says it shows a good heart to love 
them.” 

The favorite bird with the “ I Can School ” 
was the cardinal. Perhaps it was because of 
its lovely color, or its clear whistle, or because 
it stays in Kentucky all the year. 

The Bird Man told them of how men — 
bird-fanciers he called them — go into the 
woods in the autumn. They carry queer little 
wooden cages, in which they place birds, called 
decoys. These birds are made of wood, and 
have feathers glued on them. The men wait 
until they hear the whistle of a cardinal or 
catch a glimpse of red in the leaves of the trees. 

Then they creep to some place near by. 

They place the cage in an open spot, and 
sprinkle food about on its floor. 

Then they hide and give a whistle as much 
like a cardinal as they can. 

The real cardinal hears it. It does not 
sound quite right, but still he must find out 
who wants him. 

He flies near. He sees another cardinal, and 
smells food. He flies to the ground. 

The other cardinal makes no sign. 

The real one pauses and looks all about him, 
cocking his little head from side to side. The 
world is full of danger. He must be careful. 
He sees no boys. The wood is very still. He 
smells the food, and in he goes. “ Down comes 
the door, and the cardinal is caught,” said the 
Bird Man. 


88 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


Carter told the Bird Man of how he had 
seen one of these men in the woods the autumn 
before ; and of how he had caught a cardinal 
while Carter was watching him. 

“I would have shooed it away,” said Billy 
indignantly. “ I wouldn’t have stood by and 
let a wicked man get a cardinal.” 

The Bird Man had a large book full of colored 
pictures of all kinds of birds. When the Bird 
Man wanted the children to learn a particular 
bird, he would show them its picture. Then 
he would tell them all about it, and when they 
took the walks they would be on the watch for 
that bird. 

Virginia loved the thrush. A pair of them, 
later on, built a nest in the beech outside the 
school, just above the grave of Billy Alligator. 
As the days grew warmer Mr. Thrush used to 
sing lovely songs at just the time when Vir- 
ginia was called upon to tell Miss Ellison what 
was the sum of 2 and 2, or the difference be- 
tween 4 and 1. She would listen so to Mr. 
Thrush that she would say 5 or 6 or any other 
number without knowing why she said it. 

When Miss Ellison heard how much Virginia 
liked the thrush she taught her a little piece 
beginning : “ There’s a merry brown thrush 
sitting up in the tree.” 

The bird which the children did not like was 
the jay. There were dozens of them in the 
trees about the schoolhouse. They were al- 
ways flying about, screaming and quarreling. 


APRIL. 


89 


Their noise and rough ways frightened off the 
gentle birds because, the Bird Man said, song 
birds hate chatter and cries. The colored 
janitor told Virginia that nobody ever sees a 
jay on Saturday. 

“ Why, William ! ” cried Virginia. “ Where 
do they go ? ” 

“ Law, honey,” said William, looking very 
solemn, “ don’ you know ? Why, dey go ter 
de bad place, dey do, sho, honey.” 

The sparrows, too, were very quarrelsome. 
One day Virginia and Carter saw a lovely bird 
on the branch of a linden. It was quite long, 
and of a graceful shape. Its color was soft 
gray, and its bill was yellow. It was enjoy- 
ing a rest on the limb, when a sparrow flew 
up. It took its position on a limb near the 
gray bird. It made no sound, but stared hard 
at the stranger. 

The gray bird became very nervous. It 
fidgeted and moved uneasily. The sparrow 
stared on. The gray bird flew to another 
limb. The sparrow followed. It stared as 
before. 

This happened six times. 

The gray bird grew more and more restless. 
Suddenly the sparrow flew away. The gray 
bird brightened up. It settled itself in com- 
fort. Its tormentor was gone, and it could 
enjoy the quiet shade of the tree. 

Suddenly, back came the sparrow, but not 
alone. There was another sparrow with him. 


90 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


The two took positions near the gray bird and 
stared very hard. At last the poor gray bird, 
wild with nervousness, flew entirely away from 
the tree. 

When the Bird Man heard the story, he told 
Virginia that the gray bird was the yellow- 
billed cuckoo. “ People about here call it the 
rain crow,” he added, “ because it utters mourn- 
ful cries in threatening weather.” 

Virginia enjoyed the wild flowers also. One 
afternoon Miss Ellison took them to the woods. 
At first they saw the ground covered with 
nothing but dry brown leaves. They walked 
along the bank of a little stream, and rustled 
the leaves with their feet as they went. 

Suddenly there was a sound which made 
them all jump. A rabbit sprang up at Vir- 
ginia’s feet. It leaped across the little brook, 
and went loping up the opposite bank. With 
a sudden dash it disappeared behind the hill. 

“ The darling thing ! ” cried Billy. “ I wish 
that he were mine.” 

Suddenly something else happened. Eliza- 
beth gave a cry, and stooped quickly to the 
ground. 

“ Bloodroot ! bloodroot ! Miss Ellison, blood- 
root ! ” she called. 

Sure enough scattered like snow on the dull 
brown ground were dozens and dozens of lovely 
white flowers. 

“ Why do they call it bloodroot? ” asked Vir- 
ginia. 


APRIL. 


91 


It seemed a very ugly name for so pretty a 
flower. 

Miss Ellison smiled. 

“ Gather a little and you will find out,” she 
said. 

Miss Ellison forbade the children to trouble 
the roots. 

“ People are driving out all the wild flowers,” 
she said. “ They think they want them, and 
dig them up by the roots ; and then when they 
wither they throw them away.” 

When Virginia’s hands were full of flowers 
she discovered why the plant is called blood- 
root. Her fingers were stained red, as if she 
had cut one of them. 

Later in the spring they found, in the same 
wood, twinleaf, and toothwort, and trillium, and 
dogtooth violets; and every day violets and 
jack-in-the-pulpit. 

“ In May,” said Miss Ellison, on the day of 
the walk, “ we will have a picnic, and go to the 
old mill in Lloydsborough Valley.” 

The children drew pictures of the flowers 
they found, and painted them in their natural 
colors. Underneath the pictures they printed 
their names and the dates of finding them. 

The large girls in the botany classes also 
were studying the flowers. When Miss Ellison 
pinned the paintings upon the walls, they came 
in at recess and praised their fine looks. 

The “ I Can School ” also wrote the history 
of the flowers in their blank books. It was 


92 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


very hard work for Virginia. It was some- 
times even harder work for Miss Ellison to tell 
which of Virginia’s paintings represented blood- 
root, which anemones. 

“ Never mind/’ she said ; “ next year, Vir- 
ginia, yon will do better.” 

In April a very sad thing happened. Billy 
had to give up Dot. Dot had been loaned to 
her by Mr. Davis. One day, two years before 
Billy came to the “ I Can School,” her mamma 
had sent her away to spend the day with Mary. 
When she was well out of sight, a man ap- 
peared leading a rough, dirtjMooking, little 
pony. Her hair was matted and ragged, and 
nobody could realize that she could ever be 
pretty. But John, the hired man, got a great 
wash-tub full of warm soap-suds. He put the 
pony right into it and gave her a bath. Then 
he combed and brushed her hair. 

That evening, when the family sat at dinner, 
there came a ring at the bell. 

“You go, Evelyn,” said Billy’s mamma. 

All the family followed in time to see Billy 
open the door. There stood a pony harnessed 
to a little cart. 

“ It is for you, Evelyn,” said her mother. 
“ Mr. Davis wants you to use it until he is 
ready to sell the pony.” 

From the beginning Billy and Dot were the 
closest of friends. It almost broke her heart to 
think of ever giving Dot up; but now Mr. 
Davis wanted to sell her. 


APRIL. 


93 


Billy’s mamma had never let her forget that 
Dot did not belong to her. She showed her 
how much it had meant to have Dot, even if, in 
the end, she must be sold. Billy saw all this, 
but still the trial was very hard. 

Virginia loved Dot, too, and was never tired 
of listening to stories about her. She especially 
liked the one about Dot and the Christmas- 
tree. 

Billy’s mamma had dressed her a lovely tree. 
When she was taken into the parlor, her eye 
fell upon three ears of corn marked, “ For Dot.” 
There was a white one, a red one, and a black 
one which passed for blue. They were tied 
with a long bow of ribbon. 

Before any one saw what Billy was about, 
she had rushed from the room. In a few mo- 
ments she returned, bringing Dot right through 
the hall into the parlor, and up to the tree. 

When Dot saw the corn, she just opened her 
mouth, and before any one could stop her, ate 
her Christmas present in a few moments. 

Dot, Billy said, hated boys. She loved girls, 
but raised her heels if a boy came near her. 

Every day Billy would either drive or ride 
Dot to the “ I Can School.” She often stopped 
for Virginia and brought her along. 

And now Dot must be sold ! Mr. Davis 
sent word to Billy’s papa that he could make a 
better sale of Dot if Billy could come down and 
ride her before the purchasers. 

When these horse sales take place all the 


94 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


neighborhood is invited. A luncheon is pro- 
vided, and the sale continues until sundown. 

Billy’s mamma wrote Miss Ellison a note, 
asking her to excuse Billy from school because 
of Mr. Davis’s request. 

Miss Ellison consenting, the “I Can School” 
saw Billy drive away with Dot for the last 
time. It made Virginia so sad that she shed 
tears over the parting until the green of the 
leaf she was painting ran into the red of a 
flower. 

The next day, Billy told the “ I Can School ” 
what had happened at the sale. Mr. Davis had 
had her drive Dot around and around. Then 
a saddle had been put upon her, and Billy had 
ridden her. When Dot was offered for sale she 
was knocked down to a gentleman for one hun- 
dred and twenty dollars. 

“ I will make it a hundred more if you will 
throw in the little girl,” said the gentleman. 

He came from across in Ohio, he said, and 
he had four boys and no girls. 

Much as Billy loved Dot, she could not con- 
sent to be sold for one hundred dollars, so she 
and her pony had to part. 

Billy was sad for days. Nobody could make 
her laugh. 

“ Do you think that I can smile with Dot 
gone?” she asked. 

Virginia was sad, too; but she could com- 
fort herself with the society of Catherine and 
Lucre tia. 


APRIL. 


95 


One day Billy received a letter. It was from 
the gentleman who had bought Billy. 

The pony, he wrote, grieved all the way. 

He put her comfortably in his stable, and 
thought she would soon forget her little mis- 
tress. But what did Dot do but escape from 
her stall, and galloping to the river, start to 
swim across towards Kentucky ! 

This letter was a great comfort to Billy. It 
proved to her that Dot loved her as much as 
she loved Dot. 

Another thing which happened in April was 
the visit which the Thoughtful Club paid to 
the Children’s Hospital. 

Miss Ellison took them on Visitors’ Day. 
They carried the scrap-books which they had 
made, and all the toys which they could spare 
from their playrooms. 

The head nurse took them into the wards, 
and showed them the little children lying in 
the white iron beds. 

Virginia felt very sad when she saw them. 
It must be a dreadful thing to be strapped in 
bed, and not be able to turn your head even 
when a man has a hand-organ and a monkey on 
the sidewalk. 

The “I Can School” tip-toed about, and 
gave each child a present. Then Miss Ellison 
told them all a lovely story. Virginia liked 
best a lovely little girl of about her own age. 
She was not in bed like the rest, but walked 
about the ward using a little crutch. Her face 


96 


THE I GAN SCHOOL. 


was so bright and happy, that Miss Ellison 
spoke of it to the nurse. 

“ And no wonder ! ” she answered. “ Poor 
little thing ! She has been here eleven months, 
and to-morrow she is to go home to her mother 
in Georgia. .She could not walk a step when 
they brought her here.” 

Virginia could not take her eyes from the 
little girl’s face. It would be fine to walk 
with a crutch. It was like stilts. But to be 
away from one’s mother! She could never 
stand that. 

The Thoughtful Club had never seen such 
good children. They all smiled at the visitors, 
and said nothing about their pains. 

“ And they can’t never have candy nuther,” 
said Carter, who had been reading the printed 
rules on the door. 

The nurse smiled. 

“ Once a week,” she said, “ a gentleman 
comes to see them. He is old and white-haired 
like Santa Claus. He has come every Sunday 
afternoon since the hospital was first opened ; 
and he has always brought a bag of chocolate 
candy. The doctors permit him to give each 
child two pieces.” 

“ Only two pieces? ” asked Carter scornfully. 
“ I can eat a dozen.” 

“ But you are well,” said the nurse. “ These 
children are happy with the two. Any more 
would make them sick.” 

Another thing which the Thoughtful Club 


APRIL. 


97 


did, was to pay a visit to Mrs. McDowell in 
return for one which she paid to the club. 
On the occasion of her visit she had talked 
to them about the soldiers in the Philippines, 
and had told them of how much they need 
things to read. 

“ Why, children,” she said, “ I used to go 
and read to the sick men in the hospitals. I 
found that they were glad to hear even my 
home letters because they were so hungry for 
news from America. Now that I am back in 
Kentucky I can’t forget those men in the 
hospitals. When I can I send them books and 
magazines and papers. It is. hard for me to 
collect enough. Will you children promise to 
help me get more ? ” 

The Thoughtful Club was very much pleased 
with the idea of doing things for soldiers. They 
collected great piles of reading matter. Each 
little girl made for the soldiers what is called 
a Comfort Bag. It consisted of a little draw- 
string bag of calico, containing needles, thread, 
buttons, a big thimble, and a pair of scissors 
with blunt points. 

The boys wrote letters, which were slipped 
into the bags. They told of the Thoughtful 
Club, and of how the “I Can School” loved 
the soldiers. 

“ I’m glad we beat old Spain,” Carter wrote 
in his. “ Hurrah for the red, white, and blue ! ” 


98 


THE I CAN SCHOOL . 


CHAPTER IX. 

MAY. 

In Kentucky the real May Day comes in a 
part of the month too chilly for picnics. Miss 
Ellison, therefore, decided that the May holi- 
day must take place later in the month. 

“ On that day,” she said, “ we will have our 
picnic.” 

One Monday she rapped for attention, and 
told the children that the picnic would take 
place the coming Friday. 

“ First,” she added, “ we must decide about 
our lunch, and then elect the King and Queen 
of the May.” 

She then proposed that each child should 
bring a large quantity of one thing rather than a 
small portion of many. Virginia, for instance, 
might bring a cake ; Elizabeth, lemons ; Billy, 
sandwiches ; Carter, chicken. 

“ I am sure your mothers will find this to be 
far less trouble,” said Miss Ellison. 

When the lunch matter had been settled, 
Miss Ellison tore paper into small strips. 

“ Mary and George may be tellers,” she 
said. 


MAY. 


99 


Then she gave them the slips, and told them 
to give one to each child. 

“ Now you may write on your paper the 
name of the girl you would like for queen.” 

Virginia felt very important. She knew 
that men voted, but she did not know that 
women were ever permitted to do so. 

She printed “ Billy ” on her slip, and folded 
it very tight in her hand so that no one could 
know how she had voted. She had had to ask 
Billy how to spell her name, but she had not 
told her why she wanted to know. When 
every one was ready the tellers took two hats 
and, passing down the aisles, collected the votes. 

Miss Ellison read them, and the tellers kept 
the tally on the blackboard. That means that 
they made a mark under the name of a person 
each time it was called. 

V Virginia Barton,” read Miss Ellison. 

Virginia’s face grew round and beaming. 
How lovely it would be to be queen, and wear 
a crown like the ladies in the fairy tales ! And 
how pleased her papa would be to have a queen 
for a daughter ! 

“ Virginia Barton, one,” said the teller. 

“ Mary Lee,” read Miss Ellison. 

“ Mary Lee, one,” repeated the teller. 

“ Jessie Morton.” 

“ Jessie Morton, one.” 

“ Virginia Barton.” 

Virginia jumped up and down in her seat. 
Was she to be a queen? Nobody told her that 


L.ofC. 


100 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


a candidate for office should show a becoming 
indifference during the election. 

“ Barton, two.” 

“ Billy.” 

Billy squeezed Virginia’s hand. She, too, 
had leanings toward royalty. 

This complicated matters for Virginia. She 
wanted to be queen, but she did not care to 
have Billy disappointed. 

“ Frances.” 

“ Frances, one.” 

“ Barton.” 

Virginia slipped into the front desk. It 
seemed nearer victory. 

“Barton, three.” 

“ You’ll get it,” whispered Billy. 

“ Billy,” said Miss Ellison. 

“No, you,” said Virginia politely. 

« Billy, two.” 

On went the voting, Virginia in the lead. 
Suddenly there entered into the race what her 
papa told her that evening is called “ the dark 
horse.” 

“ Elizabeth Wilcox.” 

“Elizabeth, one.” 

“ Wilcox.” 

“ Wilcox, two.” 

“ Wilcox.” 

“ Wilcox, three.” 

“ Wilcox.” 

Virginia began to look very sober, and Billy 
held her breath. 


MAY. 


101 


“ Wilcox, four.” 

“ Billy.” 

“ Billy, four.” 

Billy smiled triumphantly. 

“ Wilcox.” 

“Wilcox, five.” 

“ Wilcox, six.” 

“Wilcox, seven.” 

“ Well, Elizabeth,” said Miss Ellison, patting 
a little brown head, “ you have it, dear. You 
are our little Queen of the May.” 

“ So you went up Salt River,” said her 
father, when he heard of the defeat of his 
daughter. 

“No, papa,” said Virginia puzzled. “I 
didn’t get elected.” 

“ Then you certainly went up Salt River,” 
said her father solemnly. 

“ Edward, don’t,” said his wife ; “ isn’t it 
hard enough on the child to have had this dis- 
appointment without her being teased? The 
Salt River, Virginia, is a place where people 
are said to go when they are defeated in 
elections.” 

“ Billy went up Salt River, too,” said Vir- 
ginia ; “ but Harry did not. He was elected 
King.” 

“ Do you think it is going to rain to-mor- 
row?” asked Virginia Thursday at breakfast. 
She had tried to persuade herself that it was 
not a gloomy morning. 

“No, I hardly think it is going to rain,” 


102 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


answered Mr. Barton; “but it is cloudy and 
chilly, Virginia, and to-morrow will be too cold 
for a little girl like you to go to the woods. 
We are sorry, Virginia ; but mamma and I have 
talked it over, and unless the picnic is post- 
poned I am afraid you won’t be able to go.” 

Virginia was very unhappy. She cried all 
the way to school. 

“ I can’t go to the picnic,” she sobbed. 
“ Papa thinks that it is too cold.” 

“Never mind,” said Miss Ellison. “You 
will go after all, for it is too cold for any of us 
to go. The picnic will be next Friday.” 

“ Goody ! Goody ! ” cried Carter. “ My 
mamma, she said, I’d get pneumonia.” 

Sometimes Miss Ellison read aloud to the 
“ I Can School,” and the books the children 
liked best were by a friend of Miss Ellison’s. 

“ 1 would like to see that lady,” said Carter 
one day. 

Miss Ellison had smiled at the time, as if she 
knew something pleasant. Now she told the 
“ 1 Can School ” that since the picnic had been 
postponed the lady who wrote books would be 
able to come and be their guest. 

The children were delighted. They had 
listened to many books, but they had never 
seen a single person who had written one. 

The week passed very slowly. At last 
Friday again arrived. 

“ Is it nice, mamma ? ” called Virginia, the 
moment she opened her eyes. 


MAY. 


103 


It was nice. The snn was shining gayly, 
and there was a sound of bird songs in the 
garden. 

At 9.30 the “ I Can School ” stood on the 
platform at the station awaiting the train. 
With the children had come many of the 
mammas. Near Miss Ellison was the Lady 
Principal and a pretty lady who looked like a 
school-girl. All the children were staring at her. 

“ She wrote them books,” said Carter, blush- 
ing very red when he felt the eyes of the lady 
upon him. 

“ O Carter ! ” cried his pretty mamma, “ do 
try to speak correctly.” 

Just then the train came round the curve in 
front of the schoolhouse. 

“ Be careful,” cried all the mothers as the 
children rushed on. 

Virginia took a seat by a window. She 
beckoned to Billy to come and sit by her. 
Billy, however, had made friends with the lady 
who wrote books, and had no mind to leave 
her. Just then some one sat down in the seat 
beside Virginia. She looked up, and grew cold 
all over. 

It was the Lady Principal ! As the train 
moved along the Lady Principal spoke to her. 
She called Virginia by her name, and smiled. 

The Lady Principal’s picnic voice was en- 
tirely different from her chapel voice. Vir- 
ginia felt herself grow warm again. She even 
smiled back at the Lady Principal. 


104 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


The Lady Principal went on talking. She 
told Virginia all about a dear little girl at her 
home. Virginia listened so hard that she did 
not see the children looking at her, and nudg- 
ing each other in amazement. Nor did she see 
Carter, when the Lady Principal saw the faces 
he was making, slide down in his seat and stay 
there until the conductor called “ Lloydsborough 
Valley ! ” 

“We get off here,” said Miss Ellison. 

Virginia took up her little picnic-basket, and 
slipped her hand into that of the Lady Princi- 
pal. Her mamma carried a big basket. In it 
was a fine chocolate cake. 

“ Miss Mason’s nice, mamma,” Virginia told. 
Mrs. Barton as they walked together through 
the shady lane leading to the mill. 

“ Yes,” said her mamma ; “ I like her very 
much, and admire her more than I can say. 
She has a tender heart, and has done a great 
deal of good to many people.” 

By and by, just as Virginia had decided that 
she could walk no farther, they reached the old 
mill. It was in so lovely a spot, that all the 
mothers cried, — 

“How beautiful! We had no idea that 
there was such scenery in our neighborhood.” 

The mill was in ruins. Only its walls were 
left standing on the edge of a lovely clear 
stream, which rippled over a rocky bed between 
high banks. On these banks were lovely beech 
trees and huge rocks, on which grew long 


MAY. 


105 


feathery ferns and a flower which Miss Ellison 
said was polumbine. 

When the baskets were deposited under a 
tree selected by the ladies, the children scat- 
tered in all directions. A few of the boys went 
to work making a fire in an oven which they 
built of stones. Carter and Harry went to a 
farmhouse over the hill to try to get some 
milk for Miss Ellison. Billy and Virginia 
went with Miss Ellison to some large rocks to 
gather ferns and columbine. 

“ Gather the prettiest ferns you can find,” 
said Miss Ellison. “ We want them to decorate 
the table.” 

When she had gathered as many as she 
wanted, she left the children and returned to 
the ladies. 

Virginia and Billy went on up the stream, 
jumping from stone to stone where the water 
was shallow, scrambling up to the bank where 
it was deep. By and by they reached the other 
children. 

Jessie was standing on a large rock in the 
middle of the stream. She was a “ colored ” 
preacher, preaching a sermon to her congrega- 
tion on the bank. She could talk just like 
a colored person, so the children were having 
a fine time listening. Presently there came a 
call. It was Miss Ellison’s voice, so the “ I 
Can School ” hurried back to the ladies. 

“It is time to crown the King and Queen,” 
said Miss Ellison. 


106 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


In her hand were two lovely golden crowns. 
They were made of pasteboard, and covered 
with gilt paper. 

“ Come, children,” she said, “ here under this 
tree.” 

The lady who wrote books had been making 
up a song for them to sing. In a few moments 
she taught them the words and tune. It was 
all about Maypoles and kings and queens. 
When they all knew the song, Miss Ellison 
called Harry and Elizabeth. She whispered 
something in their ears. They left the rest, 
and ran to a great rock towards the top of the 
bank. They climbed up and stood on the top. 
The mothers and children gathered on the 
grass before the rock. The children began 
the song, and Frances appeared on the rock 
behind Harry and Elizabeth. In her hands 
were the crowns. 

“ I crown you, Elizabeth, Queen of the May,” 
she said. “ I crown you, Harry, King of the 
May.” 

The children went on singing while they 
formed into couples, and marched to the May- 
pole. The King and Queen sat on their rocky 
throne and watched their subjects. 

They could not dance for fear that their 
crowns would fall off. 

“ One must suffer to be royal, you know,” 
said the Lady Principal to Virginia. Virginia, 
however, felt sure she would be willing to sit on 
the rock for the glory of wearing the crown. 


MAY. 


107 


The ladies had had much trouble in fixing the 
pole. From its top hung long streamers of 
colored cambric. Each child took one of the 
streamers. The lady who wrote the books and 
two of the mammas played tunes on combs cov- 
ered with paper, and the children danced and 
twisted themselves around the pole. It would 
be nice to be able to say that they did it grace- 
fully; but, alas, they did not. The ladies with 
the combs mixed their tunes with laughter, and 
the pole wobbled so that Miss Ellison thought 
it wise to say : 

“ If their majesties, the King and Queen, will 
be graciously pleased to descend from the royal 
throne, their loyal subjects will follow them to 
the feast.” 

The King and Queen took their plaees at the 
head of the line, and the “ I Can School ” fol- 
lowed, two by two. The ladies brought up the 
rear. 

The feast was certainly fit to set before a 
king, and before a queen as well. 

The long tablecloth was stretched on the 
grass, under a great beech. All around its edge 
was a beautiful border of fern leaves. In the 
center was a large iced cake. It was decorated 
in pink, and had the date on it. 

About it was a circle of fern leaves, arranged 
like rays from a sun. 

“ Ada made it,” said Miss Ellison. “ Isn’t it 
a lovely cake ? She did it all herself.” 

The King and Queen had places at the head. 


108 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


Their subjects sat on the sides. The ladies 
waited on them, and ate their share later. 

Everything tasted so good that the “ I Can 
School ” entirely overate itself. 

The ladies had made chocolate, so every child 
had some in a cup and saucer. 

The King and Queen suffered so much from 
the weight of their crowns that Miss Ellison 
asked permission of the subjects to permit her 
to remove them. 

“ My ! ” said Carter, “ this picnic’s good ! 
I’ve ate chicken, and four sandwiches, and ham, 
and two stuffed eggs, and cheese, and pickles, 
and one of them old olives, and every kind of 
cake, and some candy, and stuffed dates, and 
beaten biscuit, and chocolate.” 

“ Oh, Carter !” said his mother, blushing, 
when all the ladies laughed. 

“ I was hungry, mamma,” said Carter. 

After dinner they played games, and had a 
ramble along the creek. Nobody wanted to go 
home, but it had to be done. At four-thirty 
they started for the train. 

“ I hate to go home, mamma,” said Virginia. 

“ But we must,” said the Lady Principal, in 
her chapel voice. Virginia felt that she did not 
like her as well as she had when she was telling 
her stories on the train. 

They reached Fairview just in time for Vir- 
ginia and her mamma to drive home with Mr. 
Barton. 

“ Good-bye ! Good-bye ! ” she cried. 


MAY. 


109 


Miss Ellison waved her hand at her, and the 
picnic was over. 

“Papa,” said Virginia, “it was the very 
nicest picnic I ever went to in all my life.” 

“And was the Queen as nice a one as you 
would have been ? ” inquired her papa. 

“ Nicer,” said Virginia. “ ’Cause my head 
wouldn’t have filled the crown. I tried it on, 
and it came down over my nose. Papa, there’s 
only one more thing we can have now in the 
‘ I Can School.’ Guess what it is, won’t you, 
Papa ? ” 

“Lessons?” inquired Mr. Barton solemnly. 
“ They are the one thing I hear nothing about.” 

Virginia looked a trifle uncomfortable. 

“Yes, papa, lessons. We always have les- 
sons. It’s something else, lots nicer. It’s vaca- 
tion, papa ; and it begins J une the fifth. Miss 
Ellison says so.” 


110 


THE 1 CAN SCHOOL. 


CHAPTER X. 

JUNE. 

Certainly the “I Can School” did do a great 
amount in June. On the first day Miss Ellison 
distributed all the written and painted work 
which the children had done during the entire 
year. She had kept it in neat piles in the big 
drawers of the sand table. She also brought 
out the drawing-books, and the copy-books, and 
the clay modeling, and the exercises in numbers 
which had been written once a month. 

The children spread their work on their desks, 
and discovered how much better things were 
done at the end of the year than at the begin- 
ning. They then helped Miss Ellison arrange 
the work about the room, on the walls, and on 
the table. Every child had a certain space. 
First Miss Ellison tacked up the earliest work, 
then that done during the year, and then the 
very latest. ' 

The modeling, and maps, and copy-books, 
and drawing-books were arranged on the table. 
Virginia’s space was near a window. She stood 
a long time before her work, and studied it. 
First she looked at the badly printed cat marked 


JUNE. 


Ill 


September, and then at the vertical writing of 
June. It made her feel very proud to see how 
much she had improved. 

“Your mammas will all come and see our 
exhibition after the Commencement exercises,” 
said Miss Ellison. 

The closing exercises of the Fairview Acad- 
emy began on Sunday, with what the Principal 
called the Baccalaureate sermon. Virginia 
thought Baccalaureate a very pretty word, and 
so she asked her mamma to take her to hear the 
sermon. 

In the pews in front of her sat the boarding 
pupils. They looked very fine in new white 
dresses, and summer hats trimmed in flowers. 

Virginia liked their looks very much, and she 
liked the hymns. 

“ But I don’t like Bacca — you know, papa ; 
yes, — laret sermons. They’re too long.” 

On Monday came the school reception. 

Virginia felt very important over this. Her 
mother often went to receptions, and now she 
was to go to one. 

“ Catherine and Lucretia wanted to go, mam- 
ma,” she confided to Mrs. Barton. “ I would 
take them, ’cause the invitation says ‘ and fami- 
ly’; but I don’t believe Carter would treat them 
politely.” 

Mrs. Barton thought it very likely that he 
would not. “ Such young children ” she told 
Virginia, “are much better off at home. Ex- 
citement is bad for their nerves.” 


112 


THE I CAN SCHOOL . 


Virginia felt very fine, for she wore a new 
dress of white organdy and lace. The class 
color was bine, so Mrs. Barton had tied her hair 
with a ribbon of that shade. 

The school parlors were so grand that Vir- 
ginia would not have known them had it not 
been that the “ I Can School ” had helped Miss 
Ellison decorate them. 

In the morning they had all driven to the 
daisy fields, and had gathered great bunches 
of flowers. When they returned, Miss Ellison 
sent them to the school garden for all the 
asparagus tops they could find. 

With these, Miss Ellison and the large girls 
had decorated the rooms. 

Virginia, not knowing what a little girl 
should do at a reception, peeped in at the 
parlor doors. 

The graduates wore lovely blue dresses of 
organdy. Each carried bouquets of white 
flowers. They stood near the door with the 
Lady Principal, and shook hands with the 
visitors. 

Miss Ellison told the children that they, too, 
must go up and shake hands. 

Virginia thought it a terrible thing but Miss 
Ellison went with them and it soon was over. 

Then they went back to the hall, and stood 
around, not knowing what to do. 

Virginia did not see why her mamma liked 
to go to receptions. They seemed very dull 
things to her. 

2548 


JUNE. 


113 


Just as she had come to this depressing 
conclusion Miss Ellison appeared. 

“ You children must have some frappe,” she 
said ; and she led them to the back parlor 
where a great bowl stood on a table. 

The frappe tasted good, and Virginia felt 
that receptions were better than she at first had 
thought. 

Then Miss Ellison suggested that, as they 
were children, they should go to the lawn and 
play games. 

“ I’m mighty glad,” said Carter ; “ if I could 
take off my collar, too, I’d like it better.” 

But this Miss Ellison could not permit. 

“ This is a reception where people wear their 
best,” she said. 

On the lawn they had a lovely time. They 
played “ Drop the Handkerchief,” “ Pussy 
Wants a Corner,” and “Open the Gates as 
High as the Sky.” 

Then, just before time to go home, they re- 
turned to the hall. There the big girls, who 
were acting as waiters, brought them cake and 
cream. 

“ I like receptions,” said Virginia. 

“ I like ice-cream,” said Carter, beginning on 
his second saucer. 

Then came the Commencement. Again the 
“ I Can School ” was dressed in white. As 
the daisy was the class flower, every little boy 
wore one in his button-hole, and every little 
girl carried a bunch. 


114 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


The procession formed in the yard. At its 
head walked Elizabeth and Harry. 

Behind them came Virginia and Carter. 
Then followed Billy and Alex, and the other 
children according to their size. At the end 
of the long procession came the graduates in 
white, carrying immense bunches of daisies tied 
with white satin ribbon bows. 

They marched across the yard to the hall, 
pausing at the door to catch step with the 
music inside. 

“ How sweet ! How cute ! ” said the ladies, 
as the children, looking very important and 
pretty in their white clothes, marched down 
the central aisle two and two, divided, and went 
singly across the front, turned up the side 
aisles to meet in the rear, and returned in double 
line to the seats they were to occupy. 

Virginia wished she was a graduate. Every- 
one seemed to think it a very grand thing to 
be one. 

When all were seated the exercises began. 

When the graduates came forward, and re- 
ceived rolls of paper tied with ribbon, everyone 
clapped their hands, Virginia did not know 
why they did it, but she clapped too. 

The graduates blushed, bowed, and then sat 
down. 

Just then Miss Ellison beckoned to Virginia 
and Billy. 

“You two are to take up the flowers,” she 
said. 


JUNE. 


115 


Then she handed each of them a basket of 
roses, and told them which of the graduates 
to give them to. 

At first Virginia felt dreadfully frightened. 
Her knees shook, and she felt cold all over. 
But she followed Billy, and soon got over her 
fright. Again she thought it must be nice to 
be a graduate, for they received presents, as 
well as loads of lovely flowers. 

At last it was all over. The people left the 
hall, and the boarding girls and graduates hur- 
ried to their rooms to change their dresses and 
pack their trunks. 

All the mammas of the “ I Can School ” 
children went with Miss Ellison to the school- 
room to see the work. 

“ It is wonderful ! ” 

“ They have done splendidly ! ” 

“ How can you have so much patience ? ” 

The ladies did all the talking, and the chil- 
dren listened. 

When the mothers had seen everything 
Miss Ellison told the children that they could 
come and get their things the next day from 
the janitor. 

“ Yes, I am going this afternoon,” she said 
to the mammas. “ I am pretty tired, but I am 
anxious to get home.” 

The children were so excited that some of 
them forgot to say good-bye to their teacher. 
This seems a strange thing, but it often 
happens. 


116 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


Virginia, standing by, saw Miss Ellison’s eyes 
fill with tears. She could not understand what 
was the matter; for she was a little girl, and 
could not know that Miss Ellison was very 
tired from all the work, and that it hurt her 
to think that the children for whom she had 
tried to do so much could forget her in a mo- 
ment. She had worked so hard to try to 
make them enjoy the year. Virginia did not 
know what was the matter, but she felt that 
her dear Miss Ellison was in trouble. 

“ Good-bye, Miss Ellison,” she said, putting 
up her little mouth to be kissed. “ I’m sorry 
that it’s the end of the ‘ I Can School.’ ” 

Then Miss Ellison was all smiles. 

“ You sweet little thing,” she said, which 
was exactly what she had done ten months 
before. 

How long ago that seemed to Virginia. How 
stupid she had been about learning to spell 
that easy “ cat.” 

Now she could read a whole page about a 
black cat which got into the nest of a white 
hen, and she could - add numbers, and “ write 
vertical.” She had painted in a book, and 
modeled a lovely half-apple, made real by a 
stem and the seeds of a russet she had had for 
lunch one day. She knew the name of all the 
birds about Fairview, and she could tell about 
the wild flowers. 

Altogether she felt very learned and scorn- 
ful of a certain small person who had thought 


JUNE. 


117 


Kentucky the name of a little girl, and who 
had known nothing of George Washington, and 
who had called C-A-T kitten-puss. 

Virginia’s mamma was very proud of all her 
little girl knew. She did not wait for Virginia 
to get her work from the janitor. She took it 
all carefully home to show her husband. 

“ Papa,” said Virginia, the moment Mr. Bar- 
ton entered the house that evening, “ it’s 
vacation ! ” 

“ Vacation ! ” said her father. “ My ! my ! 
I remember that there was a time, Miss Barton, 
when I loved it better than school ; do you ? ” 

Virginia hesitated. 

“ Ten months,” she said at last, “ is a lot 
of school. Lucre tia and Catherine seem just 
as tired, papa. Their lessons don’t interest 
them now that it’s so hot. I love the 1 1 Can 
School,’ papa ; but it’s nice to stay at home and 
play * Lady come to see.’ ” 

This was a very long speech for Virginia, 
the longest that she ever had made. 

Her papa laughed. 

“ Miss Barton,” he said, “ profound student 
that you are, I see that in some things you 
are not altogether different from your parent. 
But let me remind you, Miss Barton, when 
you feel at times a little tired of vacation, that 
the ‘ I Can ’ will begin again on the tenth of 
September.” 

“ And Miss Ellison will be so glad to see 
me ! ” said Virginia confidently. 


118 


THE I CAN SCHOOL. 


Her papa laughed. 

“ As for that, Miss Barton — ” 

“ Now don’t, Edward,” interrupted his wife. 
“ I am sure, Virginia, that Miss Ellison will be 
glad to see you in the fall. If I were you I 
would write her a little letter in the vacation. 
I have her address.” 

“ And I’ll tell Billy and Carter and Harry 
and all the children, and we’ll all write so that 
she won’t forget us. And she’ll answer them, 
mamma, won’t she ? ” 

“ I think she will,” answered her mother. 
“ It will be very nice for you to write to her.” 

But her husband said in a low voice, “ Poor 
Miss Ellison.” 

“ Good Miss Ellison, papa,” said Virginia. 
“ She’s nice, and I love her.” 
































































































































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AUG 1 9 1902 


AUG J 9 1902 


i copy nei 

AUG. 

A U C-jT » 25 




TOC.** ™V. 



























LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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